


A Study In Chemistry

by daisherz365



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, BBC Sherlock - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 82,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/pseuds/daisherz365
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all you need is a gesture to know that somebody cares. A collection of connecting one-two shots. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Handkerchief

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a little familiar if you've dallied a bit over onto ff.net. Thought it'd be nice to bring this collection over here as well. Hope you enjoy. Will post one every couple of days since there are 23 shots so far. :)

There was only so much time that a student could have off from school after having to grief a loss. This was especially true with the case of one, Molly Hooper. She had been absent from her courses for a week. Most would think it was a bit of special treatment however that was never the case.

Molly Hooper was not the class president, or the head cheerleader. She was just an awkward girl who spent most of her time trying to speak to people who just pushed her around because she let them. 

You'd think she'd want to change that but coming back she just wanted to get through the day with as little conflict as possible. 

There was also another student who attended Chapel Hill Academy. One who most tried to be friends with because he was quite mysterious and gorgeous. From the way he cared himself to the way the standarized uniform of slacks, dress shirt and blazer with a tie usually ecentuated his built form. One, Sherlock Holmes.

He didn't see the point in forming bonds let alone friendships with these people who admired him. It was quite silly if you asked him. He would tell you so. He just didn't see the point. However, there was one exception in the form of a lad that was interested in medicine. John Watson.

They had first encountered each other last year in science class that Sherlock had been forced to take. (It was required.) Watson and Holmes became lab partners and started to take interest in each other. Sherlock in the rather mediocre yet not entirely dull mind of John's and John in the way Sherlock acted. It was quite interesting from the outside perspective.

This year though they had been split up. This year focused more on their college field study and obviously they had been on two different sides of the spectrum of studies. It didn't stop them from speaking and spending time together. This was a boarding school after all. There were weekends and breaks where "fun" could be made.

Theirs being a bit more unorthodox than the rest of their peers. On this day during lunch in fact Sherlock was shocked to realize that his friend had another friend in the form of a girl no less. Though it quite surprised him in two aspects:

1) It was a girl who wasn't romantically interested in him. There had been many that he observed in the past.

2) She was a familiar girl. His Chemistry partner to be exact; Molly Hooper.

He had thought nothing of it over the past week when he worked alone in lab. He just figured that she had dropped the course. However, now looking back there had been a bit of distress in her actions the last time they were working together.

He watched in fascination as John bounded down to Molly and talked to her. He couldn't hear exactly what they were saying but there was a lot of sympathy on his friend's face and bit of relaxation in the girl that he didn't care to notice much.

Something had happened apparently. Molly was crying Sherlock noticed with a grim expression on his face. He hated when people cried. More so girls. He wasn't good at fixing that. He wasn't one to comfort. That was just something he never cared to teach himself to do. It'd never seemed important enough.

John had muttered something to Molly and gave her shoulder a firm squeeze before wandering back to Sherlock. He saw that his friend was giving him a nearly bewildered gaze at the display of affection he had shown his the grieving girl. "I didn't know she was coming back today. I thought she'd at least text me."

"You're..." Sherlock paused briefly trying to be sure he wanted to ask the question before continuing. "You're acquainted with her?"

John laughed at the way he worded the question. He always found it strange how he asked the most simple questions in a more regal way. "Yes. We are friends. We met a couple years ago after I got into a tussel with these guys. She was volunteering at the clinic I went to to get patched up."

"She wants to be a doctor then?" Sherlock looked confused. He didn't see quiet/awkward Molly becoming a doctor. John's motion of shaking his head caused him to stop momentarily.

"She wants to be a pathologist. Kind of odd, isn't it?" John smiled but Sherlock's focus was elsewhere. He was thinking of his lab partner as a pathologist. It didn't seem too strange. If anything it seemed to suit her. 

The sound of the bell ring pulled the boys away from their thoughts and onto their feets. They headed back to the front entrance of the quad and into the academy once more. Neither had looked to see that Molly hadn't move an inch, not even a flinch at the ringing of the bells. There had been three--one at the end of lunch, the second as a ten minute warning for the stragglers and another as a late bell. 

Molly had slipped into a memory. One that seemed so far away when in reality was just the week prior. 

Back in the school Sherlock had just sat down in Chemistry for another lab day. Something coiled inside him upon realizing he was alone again today. Usually he didn't notice nor care but the lab called for two people to work through this one together whereas all the others had been single assignments. They could have helped each other if needed but there was no requirement for it.

He wanted to curse his instructor and that girl for not moving inside with everyone else. It wasn't that serious. Everyone grieved. This long was too long for anyone.

Instead of making a spectual about it to anyone even though he could feel the piercing gazes of others watching him as he pushed back from the table and calmly walked out the room without even a halt in his step. The instructor had said nothing.

He wondered back out to the quad which was vacant and down to the small hill where she was still sitting. He just stood a couple feet back to figure out how to do this. He normally wouldn't care if he hurt anyone's feelings or didn't realize it at all. This blatantly dull girl needed fixing quickly.

It nearly took five minutes for it to come to him. Not too long but considering he would have usually just grabbed her and went on his way. He found himself stalling. He was begrudgingly about to be courteous to someone. Someone he really didn't know that well.

As a lot of the trash magazines and books he briefly skimmed over when he got bored said: girls were delicate. Even more so when upset over something.

He shoved his hands in the pocket of his trousers and walked down to where she was sitting. He didn't even look at her as he pulled out a small cloth and extended his arm to give it to her. She stopped sobbing and breathing it seemed as she directed her gaze from the item in his hand, to his hand up his arm and to his face. 

"Here." He stated when she didn't move to grab it. He stuffed his hand back in his pocket and waited a moment. He still didn't look at her but could see that she had began to wipe the tears off her face which he was surprised to see didn't have make up on it. 

"W-what are you doing here?" She asked a few moments later after cleaning away her face. He noticed the crack first then the stutter as she posed the question. He wouldn't think of it any more than that she was overwhelmed. 

"You need to be in class."

"So should you." Her voice was quiet as he expected it to be but was much more clearer. It was obvious she had cleared it.

"Obviously." He muttered before turning to her and gripping her arm at the elbow and speaking once more with a bit more urgency. It brought out his baritone a bit more. "Get up."

When she didn't move he yanked her to her feet and spoke quickly. "Everyone dies. It's how we evolve. We allowed to mourn yes but it's been a week and that is entirely too long. I'm sure you miss whomever it is that died."

"Mum--." She was cut off as Sherlock began speaking again. "Yes, that is rather unfortunate but your mum would want to keep living. You are alive still Molly, and so you should continue to go to your lessons."

There were many things running through her head but only one needed to be said despite the way his icy blue orbs were glaring down at her. "You really need me." She paused for a moment as she felt his grip tighten on her arm and then she continued knowing that he was getting impatient. "Being rude won't help, though."

He huffed as he turned and began to pull her along to the school. They needed to get back to the lab to have time to finish their assignment. He had already wasted enough time as it is.

"Here." She called while trying to keep up with the long strides of his legs. Sherlock turned and looked down at her. She was trying to give him back his handkerchief. He turned back around and spoke two words that were pretty simple. "Keep it."

"It's yours." She stated quietly.

"I'm aware of that. I'd rather not have it now that your tears are on it." That was the truth but he covered it up with a lie next. "I have another."

Before they reached the door however she pulled on his arm hard enough that he leaned down and she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek quickly. She let go of his arm and walked inside the lab.

Sherlock just stood there for a moment blinking. She had whispered something to him before giving him that small nuisance of affection. "Thank you."

He just rolled his eyes before joining the rest of his class inside. He wasn't sure what she thanked him for but brushed it off as they had other things to worry about. Like the assignment they had to complete within the next twenty five minutes.

This was be interesting, he couldn't help but thinking as he sat down and they began working.


	2. Dancing Partners (Part One)

It had been two weeks since the day that Sherlock had showed that rare act of kindness towards Molly. He had practically dragged her to the lab afterwards but it wasn't something she had forgotten. You don't forget things like that. Especially with a guy like Sherlock who only talked when he deemed necessary, and whom also scared a few people. 

However, Molly wasn't one of them. She found him fascinating. Not in the way you're probably think. It's quite clear by all his admirers of both the female and male persuasion that he is attractive. That's not what she likes of him. It's his behavior, much like how John liked him. In other words in a more friendly manner.

Though she wouldn't be able to tell you if they were friends. Chemistry partners? Yes. Acquitances? Quite possibly in some light but not necessarily friends. They didn't talk much despite how John did help get her to start eating with them for lunch instead of near the woods. The first thing Sherlock said when John had mention this with her at the table outside where they sat everyday was, "That wasn't a safe place. There are bears nearby that would have mauled you."

He hadn't looked up from his food that she noticed he hadn't been eating much of. She just replied, "I don't fear that easily, it was fine."

He had said nothing to that just looked at her briefly before turning to John to talk about a recent murder. This too fascinated her; the murders. But she never commented on them just listened while either eating, reading or finishing lessons. She had just a few more to catch up from when she was absent a couple weeks ago. 

This day in particular she seemed to be struggling with a subject as noted by Sherlock scrutinizing eyes. He usually didn't pay much attention to what she did. She was rather quiet all the time. He wondered about that sometimes but just laid it down to how she was. Always listening but never speaking.

It wasn't that irritating to him but to their peers apparently it was. They picked on her a lot and unfortunately for future pathologist no one really helped her out. More than likely it was John coming to her rescue and getting into a brawl. Sherlock stayed clear of that instead gave them menacing glances once Molly was taken somewhere out of their claws. Sherlock can admit that he does care about her in some way but to which is a bit puzzling, even to him.

The topic of discussion between John and Sherlock was one that Sherlock would much like not to discuss. It was quite trivial and a nuisance in his book. "You have to go though. It's mandatory for all of the guys to go."

Sherlock who was trying to ignore his friend about the matter of a dance that was sprung on everyone the past friday was looking at Molly. Not her exactly, but what she was doing. She had erased nearly ten times already on the same problem for the majority of lunch. He sighed before pulling her book away from her, ignoring her gasp of surprise as he took her pencil too. He looked down at the workbook and saw that it was Geometry and a little Trigonometry.

The problems were fairly simple compared to the things he was doing. He went ahead and answered them not paying attention to the duo who were just looking at him in pure astonishment before he slid the book back over to Molly. She looked confused as she looked at what he had done. "Your frustration was irritating me. I finished them for you. Your welcome."

He paused a moment before turning to John. "I could just make up some sort of excuse. I don't think it'll effect my GPA if I miss one silly dance."

"I heard they'll come look for you though." John nodded as he remembered the stories he heard just this morning.

"I have the best hiding places."

"Is it because you don't have anyone to take? I'm sure Molly wouldn't mind."

"John, I don't really think that's a good idea." Molly said quietly while playing with the cap on her water bottle. She just kept screwing it on and then unscrewing it.

"Why ever not?" Sherlock asked looking surprised at the weariness he could hear in her voice. "Do you think I'll be an unpleasant date?"

"N-no. That's not it." She squirmed in her spot looking away from him. There were too many variables of why she had to say no. She wouldn't mind going with him at all. He was just asking for trouble. Besides, she wasn't anybody special. She was sure he could take whomever he wanted. Any girl would be willing.

"What is it then?"

"It's a lot of things." She managed to squeak out as she looked down at her hands which she had put in her lap because she saw how much her motions were irritating him. She irritated him, there was another reason.

"I'm interested. Do tell." He gestured for her to speak then. Molly looked at John who was looking on at despair at how quickly Sherlock attitude changed upon Molly's rejection towards his invitation.

"I'd rather not go into details." She looked up and caught him scrutinizing her again before standing up and walking off. She would see him in Chemistry but she needed to get away from the tense situation. He didn't know how much unwell off she was compared to most of the students here. She had gotten to attend on a scholarship. Her grades were really the only thing she had.

It was quite sad actually.

Back at the table, Sherlock looked a bit baffled at Molly's abrupt exit. He read a few things just from her actions. The majority of all led him to believe he had made him uncomfortable with his badgering. He of course didn't see it as much of a problem. He would try to figure it out though. 

"This was my fault. Don't pester her about it, she has enough to deal with as it is." John could tell by Sherlock's gaze that that statement only made him ten times more curious. Molly Hooper was becoming a puzzle to him and that wasn't a good thing. "Don't even try it Sherlock. You'll only make her upset."

"Fine." He sighed as he got up as the bell rang. He rushed inside leaving his friend looking at his retreating form with a knowing look. He wasn't going to stop. Poor Molly. There was no stopping Sherlock when he got interested in something or someone rather (it didn't happen often).

Despite John's assumption Sherlock did not pester Molly in Chemistry. Instead he waited until later that night when the majority of the students were in their rooms getting ready for bed. It was forbidden for a boy to be visiting a girl's dormitory but Sherlock had found a way around that. He made an excuse to the woman guarding the halls of the wing that Molly's room resided that he needed to borrow her notes for class before tomorrow. It was going to help him not fail, he said. That was a lie of course but he was allowed through for ten minutes at most.

He made it through the halls looking on each door where there was a dry eraser board stating whom resided in which room. No Molly on any of them. He nearly gave up before he came across the last door and saw that nothing was there. It had to be, he told himself as he knocked hurriedly knowing that he was on a time limit.

The door opened and Molly's head poked outside the door. She squeaked before shutting the door for a moment and then coming out with a light green cardigan around her shoulders to cover up herself. Sherlock looked at her attire; striped pink Pajama pants and a white tank, no bra obviously but he disregarded that fact as he began speaking. "It'd be in your best interest to explain why you won't go to a dance that even though I don't necessarily want to attend, you won't go with me? Were you asked already by someone else?"

Molly eyes widen at that question. She couldn't believe that would ever cross his mind. Who would want to take her? She wasn't as appealing as all the other girls. Yet, here Sherlock Holmes stands inquiring why she won't accompany him of all people. "That's silly don't you think? No ones asked me and I don't necessarily wish to go. Plus there's the matter that I don't have anything to wear and...."

Before she could say another word Sherlock cut her off. "That won't be a problem. I can get you a dress."

She just stared at him in mere curiosity. Why would he go to all the trouble for an event he doesn't even want to attend. It made no sense to her. "I'm not good in social situations." She said as she looked away from him. 

"Neither am I or so I've been told. Next? Do speak quickly, I have a time limit before I'm the one in trouble." He gestured with his hand for her to continue.

"I don't want to owe you anything. Just go by yourself."

"Why do you have to make it so bloody difficult?" He sighed as he ran a hand through his curly locks.

Molly didn't say anything. Just frowned and tried to figure out a way to make him leave. He was really close to her admitting something that was a bit difficult for her. "Would it make you happy if I accompanied you to the dance? Be honest."

Sherlock looked quite conflicted. Happiness wasn't an unfamiliar term but it didn't mean he used it often. He just stared at her for a moment before speaking. "Yes, I would enjoy myself at the dreadful dance if you accompanied me. Are there anymore objections you'd like to voice Molly Hooper?"

"I don't dance."

He seemed to be mulling over something before he nodded. "Not a problem. I'll send your dress to your room no later than tomorrow afternoon."

With that said he just walked off. Molly didn't even look after him just retreated back to her room and tried to grasp the fact that she was actually going to a dance with a date. It was mindboggling. She retired to her bed and went to sleep with a small smile on her face.

Sherlock Holmes was just full of surprises. Molly Hooper found this to be extremely true upon the knock that she heard at her door a quarter to three the next day. She had calmly walked over and answered it only to have a humongous white box shoved into her hands and then have the messenger who was a girl that lived in this hall rush off. Molly stumbled towards the bed and put it down before closing the door. There were many girls standing outside their rooms trying to peer inside to have a look at the big box that the mousy girl had gotten. Most were curious as to why she got it.

Molly just sighed before carefully removing the tape from the sides that was holding the box closed and lifting the lid. Inside was a beautiful royal blue dress that she was afraid to even take out. She could see sequin jewels on it and was even more scared that she would mess it up. She wouldn't be able too wear it. It was too much. What was he thinking?


	3. Dancing Partners (Part Two)

Sherlock had been notified the exact moment Molly sent back the dress he had gotten for her for the dance. To say he was bewildered why she would do that was an understatement. It was a beautiful dress, he had given the okay for it after all.

When it came time for lunch and Molly had taken her seat across from him. He just stared at her while she began eating trying to figure out if he'd be able to figure it out for himself. He saw nothing. She looked calm, not the slight deterrence in her demeanor. 

When she looked up she looked a little startled at him but allowed a smile to surface on her face as he spoke. "You sent the dress back." He didn't question it of course. He continued to observe her as she went back to chewing on the tuna sandwich she had prepared for herself. He had realized that after a few of the first days of her joining them for lunch that she didn't eat any of the lavishly prepared food that everyone else did. He had a clue why that was but he wasn't particularly positive if it was entirely accurate.

"Yes. It was beautiful but too much." She said as she looked back up to face his icy blue eyes. "Simple is better for me. I don't like too fancy things. Especially if I can't afford it."

"You probably won't be able to afford anything I get." Molly just opened her mouth and closed it several times before shrinking back to her lunch. He was right of course but the way he spoke, the tone made it sound very condescending to her. In turn insulting her lack of flair that everyone else had.

Sherlock wasn't too sure where to go from here. He had obviously said something wrong but it wasn't sure how he could fix it. He just stated something he knew for a fact. To him, there was anything wrong with that. It's how he discussed things. Usually John was the one to point out if he had made a mistake. He wasn't there, currently.

John had to stay behind to retake an exam that he didn't do that great on. It was unfortunate, Sherlock had thought after being informed that it would just be Molly and himself in lunch. He had some sort of idea that something like this would happen. 

Sherlock was about to do something that was difficult for him and apologize but Molly had other ideas. She had begun packing up the small tubberware containers that contained her food in. Then she turned back to him looking very calm again. "Just because I'm your companion to the dance doesn't mean I want to be treated like a princess. It's just a dance. Something nice and simple will be fine. Nothing more, nothing less. I'll see you in class." She stated quietly before leaving Sherlock once more puzzled.

He wasn't left too long to dwell on such frivolous matters. John had rushed over upon seeing Molly leave. He had been standing near the entrance of the quad when he noticed the tension. He waited to see if he would need to step in before coming over. He was curious as to what happened. Knowing Sherlock it was probably something he said. 

When he sat down he asked him. "What happened?"

"Nothing of importance really. Frivolous dance matters." He waved it off before asking about how John's test went.

John just indulged him about his exam, while making plans to keep an eye on the duo. Especially his friend who did such unorthodox things. He didn't want to see anything to happen to Molly. She was too nice for Sherlock to do any more damage.

Once Molly finished her last course of the day she went ahead to her room. Volunteering at the clinic was only on the weekends so she was stuck around campus today. With the matters of the dance now something important it seemed that she wouldn't be going much of anywhere.

She like Sherlock was confused about the other. He said he didn't want to go to the dance, nearly requests she goes with him and then when she returns a dress she didn't feel right about wearing he seemed a bit annoyed over it. Makes no sense to her. 

One of the things that Molly hated was being prejudice towards others. It had been done to her numerous times but she'd rather be able to decide for herself what people are like after she gets to know them. To an extent here she'd like to get to know Sherlock Holmes but it was making it difficult. He was difficult for her to read on the surface. But she noticed a few things already that the admirers probably hadn't yet.

Molly was taken by surprise when she saw another box waiting for her in her room. Not outside, she noted but inside on her bed. This one was a black box with a light blue ribbon covering it as if it was a present. There was a small envelope laying on top of the box. She saw that it had her name scribbled on it in an elegant script. Just Molly.

She opened it and took out the small note that was inside. It had a few words scribbled on it in the same script. It read:

_**I think this will suit your tastes better.  
\- SH** _

Molly smiled before placing it back in the envelope before moving on to the box. She took the ribbon off and noticed as she touched it that it was silk. She liked the feel of it but put it down and lifted the lid next. 

There lay another beautiful dress. This one was simple just as she had suggested to him. It was a red dress that had a black ribbon at the bust. She could tell that it was long enough to reach past her knees. She liked it a lot.

She went ahead and stowed it away in her closet until the dance. It was two days away.

The days that led up to the dance went by quite quickly and Molly found herself bubbling with anxiousness of the night ahead the morning of it as she lay down in bed just thinking. She reached over for the frame that was always present there and smiled a small smile at the picture of her Mom and herself. It had been taken two years ago.

Before she could filter her memories for the exact moment there was a knock at the door. Molly jumped up and placed the frame back before walking over to the door and opened it, peering to see who it was. There was a woman. She didn't know her. Neither did she know the man that stood behind her. 

"Um...who are you?" She asked as she opened the door a little wider.

"Hooper, Molly. Yes?" The woman blantantly ignored her question as she nodded looking at the way the girl was dressed before brushing past her into the room. The man just began speaking as he walked into the room "Sorry about her we're on specific business. Mr. Holmes sent us."

"Sherlock...?"

"As he said, Mr. Holmes sent us." The woman said as she began circling Molly. She picked up strands of her hair up, and stared at her figure again before turning back to her male companion. "You must shower quickly. We might be at this all day."

Before she could say another word she was ushered into her small bathroom.

Molly was in a daze by the end of it all. It felt like it had been hours of pampering that was done by these two strangers who by the end of the process had told her their names. Ed short for Edward and Esty short for Esther.

Molly didn't know much about things when it came to beauty but it was something that she had to speak up about when they came to that part of the process. She repeated words that she had said to Sherlock a few days prior. Simple and not too much. They had obliged all the while Ed had mentioned that she was a natural beauty but it was hard to see it when she didn't try to show it off.

Molly could see it as they put her in front of the mirror and she could see for herself what she looked like. They had made her hair gloss in loose curls and her eyes pop with the minimal amount of red eyeshadow and lipstick. She looked pretty in her black pumps and the cute dress that Sherlock had chosen.

She began to wonder if she looked like this what the other girls would be dressed in. She didn't get a chance to wonder much since they began taking her towards the door and Ed took her by the hand helping her down the steps. There waiting for her was Sherlock and John. Plus, John's date Sarah.

Sarah had walked over to her and began gushing about how pretty she looked. Sherlock hadn't moved yet, he was concentrated on his phone, texting away. It wasn't until John moved away towards the two girls did he look up. He stared blinking at her before joining her side. He slipped his phone in his pocket before extending his arm to her. Molly just stared at him causing him to unleash a smirk graze his lips.

He spoke then. "You're supposed to take it, Molly." 

"R-right." She was flustered. It was amusing to him as she slid her arm through his and then he began leading them outside towards the ballroom across the way.

It didn't take too long to get to the door. Two men dressed in black and white pushed the doors open and they stepped through. The ballroom had been transformed since the last time Molly had been in here. That was last year for a demonstration of the waltz. Chandeliers were hanging from the high ceilings and the room had had a bit of a transformation. Black and white decorations along the walls and the tables circling around the dance floor. That's where they headed after a moment.

John offered to get them drinks once they were all settled. Sarah and Molly talked a little bit about everyone elses attire before John came back with glasses that looked equilvant to a chalice but smaller and glass. Velvet red liquid swished inside them. Molly accepted her drink but didn't touch it. Something was off.

"What's wrong, Molls?" John asked as he noticed the conflicted emotions displayed on her face. "The punch is fine."

"Actually..." Molly began before Sherlock cut her off.

"It's spiked. Besides Molly doesn't drink."

Molly turned to him and just looked at him. "How'd you..." she had never spoken about. How he could have known, it doesn't make sense.

"You aren't like most of our peers. It was more of a hunch but your hesitation had helped me come to the conclusion a bit more quicker." He muttered as he looked at something past her. He turned to her then. "We're going to have to dance, _Molls_."

Molly was focused on what he actually said in the last statement more than the fact that he had forced himself to reciprocate the exact nickname that John had called her just moments ago. She had already told him that was out of question. She was a terrible dancer.

Another person joined their little group. She noticed it was the girl that had gave her the first box that contained the flashy dress. She had a nervous look about her but asked the question regardless. 

"Sherlock, would you like to dance?" 

"No. Thank you." The thank you was a mere afterthought. It was a bit amusing honestly to know that he wasn't sure when to be courteous to someone. 

"You're just sitting here, though."

"On the contrary, I'm about to dance with my date." Before Molly could blink he had his hand pulling her up and out of her seat towards the ballroom floor. 

"Sherlock..." She called as she stumbled around trying to keep up with him despite his hold on her hand. It wasn't that strong. "I told you I don't dance." Molly said as he turned to face her. He peered down at her, calculating her. "I'm aware of that. I also stated it wasn't a problem."

He grabbed her other hand and placed it on his shoulder while still holding her other one, this time much tighter then he put his other at her waist. He tilted his head to the side before speaking again. "Stop thinking, relax and follow me. It's not that difficult."

Molly did as he said as the music transitioned to a familiar orchestrated piece. They were about to waltz. She began counting the steps in her head to keep her distracted as he took her around the floor.

Towards the very end of it Sherlock leaned foward and whispered something that made her feel conflicted again. 

"You look beautiful, by the way." He pressed a kiss to her cheek as the music stopped. 

Then he led her off the dance floor. Molly didn't hesitate as she spoke up. "You confuse me."

"As you do to I." He stated as John smiled as Sarah took him out for a dance. "Thanks for the dance."

Molly just nodded as they sat down with each other content now that they got out the way. It made her think the rest of the night what other things Sherlock had stowed away in that big brain of his. It was definitely a mystery. That much was certain.


	4. The Shift In Our Fate (Part One)

People enjoy holidays so much. Whether it's because of being around their family or just because they could relax. It wasn't something that Sherlock ever understood. It didn't mean he didn't enjoy more of the freedom he had away from the restrictions of the academy's rules. 

He could admit that that was something he didn't miss.

However there had been a bit of a new issue at hand given that nearly everyone would be going on there ways. Including the duo of Holmes and Watson. In fact they would be spending it together for the most part. The issue led in the rather interesting soon to be pathologist--Molly Hooper.

Sherlock had asked to be polite, though a portion of his conscience kept muttering that he had wanted to know for another reason. He of course, shut down that part of his mind as his phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out. Frowning at the texts he kept getting from his older brother before putting it away, leaving the texts unanswered as always.

"What are your plans for break?" He asked as his gaze moved to the trees outside the window swinging wildly. The wind was fairly high today and there was a chance of rain, the trio had decided early on to play it safe in the vacant corner of the cafeteria where it was known that no one would sit. There was no real reason why. It was rather convenient, Sherlock thought. "Molly?" He called her name after some time, and she hadn't answered.

He adverted his gaze to her then as her head popped up and she looked at him. She was confused. He noticed the book she had her hands coiled around. He had seen her pull it out of her bag earlier but hadn't really paid much attention to it afterwards. 

"Do you have plans for break?" He asked again. John Watson looked on in amusement at the scene before him. He always found it rather amusing at how off guard Molly had become since the dance when it came to Sherlock. She often forgot he was there. Always doing something else as a way of occupying her time, never expecting him to say anything to her.

John had to admit that it was intriguing that his best friend hadn't really picked up on it either. Or maybe he had. Who really knew what Sherlock knew? 

"Well, nothing really." She said quietly before going back to her book. It struck John as odd that Molly hadn't mentioned spending time with her dad. 

"You aren't going back home to be with your dad?" John asked as he noticed Sherlock had turned back to the window. Were the trees that fascinating to him? 

"Oh. Not this time. He has some sort of meat-butcher convention event to go to so I'll just stay here." Molly chose not to look up from her book. It would be more obvious that she was upset over this fact. Molly had picked up on this fact rather quickly over the years. It was in her face, in her eyes mostly. 

"We have a project to work on. You can come with us." Sherlock stated.

Molly just peered at him through her veil of hair which she had left down today. She wasn't sure if he was serious or not. She was sure he might be slightly mad. As far as she knew Sherlock wasn't one to be around many people let alone enjoy it. Why would he say that? He didn't ask. He just said it as if it was that easy.

In reality it was that easy but Molly tended to over analyze his notions. She never could tell what his true intentions were. It had been right though. They did have an presentation that had to be worked on. They had discussed a few things but nothing too major. It wasn't a huge assignment anyhow.

"That's not really necessary. I mean we can work on it through emails. It's not that big of a deal."

Sherlock turned his head then and turned his steely icy blue orbs on her. "You're coming with us." 

Molly swallowed. That was the final statement. 

Another buzzing sound came from Sherlock's person and he looked down into his lap at his phone. There he saw three more text messages. Each from a different person. He found it a little perculiar. He just read them all before stowing it away again. 

They weren't important to him. He could deal with them as they came during the break. 

During the last couple days of classes, John did his best to reassure Molly that it really wasn't that big of a deal that she was coming. Both Sherlock and his family had plenty of spare rooms and she would be spending time with both. That's how they did it most of the breaks. They split time at both homes. 

Molly was still on edge about the matter. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to be around Sherlock's family. She had met John's mother on several occasions. She never stayed in his home before. It never called for that. 

Another pressing matter was how much more inadequate she was compared to the two boys. John was closer to her but his family was stable and she really didn't want to think of Sherlock's family. She had had time to muse about them but came to the conclusion that she would never be able to know how they were like unless she met them. Which she undoubtly would during this week and a half.

They set off for John's family's home that Friday morning after getting everyone things into a town car which by the looks of it and the emblem on the hood and the wings of the car belonged to the Holmes family. It made Molly wonder as John gestured for her to slip in before him how wealthy were the Holmes. You had to have some money to be able to afford town cars that took you wherever you pleased.

Molly felt a bit out of place inside the car which caused her to fidget. Sherlock who was messing around on his phone for quite some time had noticed. He was observing her as he typed away, answering the texts that truly annoyed him. Most from his family whom had heard about the "female companion" as Mycroft had put it that would be joining the boys this time.

It annoyed him a bit that such a small person could evoke this response from his family. In the most recent message his mother had even went as far as to incenuate that something had happened between "Ms. Hooper and my son". Blasphemy. He continued to roll his eyes as he replied to them before tossing his phone to the side.

He was sitting directly across from his two companions. John who was speaking quietly with Molly. She quietly listened, not really saying much. He noticed that she had relaxed a little and now only the slight twitch of her fingers grasping her coat was present. It was interesting to him to see Molly act that way. She had never really hidden how she felt about something before. It was always obviously shown but given the circumstance he could see why she chose to be this way. This wasn't her element.

Molly Hooper was a closed off person when she didn't have to be present during school hours. She was either in her room or off at the clinic learning a new way to fix up someone. Where Sherlock found it odd that she would care about learned this when she would be autopsying dead bodies for a living he supposed that it could come in handy. She wasn't the most graceful of women.

Three hours passed before the car came to a stop. All cohabitants of the car had all fell asleep during the last two hours. Molly hadn't slept much the night before, John and Sherlock and stopped talking, causing John not being able to amuse himself with anything else and chose to sleep. Finally, Sherlock had went beyond his mind palace to memories which took a bit out of him making him need rest after awhile.

No one had woken up during the stop until the door Molly was nearby was opened. She shot up as the sun blinded her vision and she covered her eyes. She wiped them off before looking around and saw the two boys beginning to wake up. John more quickly than his counterpart. Molly unbuckled her seatbelt and carefully slipped out. 

The first thing that caught her eye was the medium sized cottage looking house the car had parked in front of. There were plants blooming along the edges of the house, a small staircase that led into the home. Before she could dwell more on the new surroundings she was engulfed into the warm embrace of the arms of someone quite familiar. "Molly darling, I was so happy when John told me you were coming."

Molly smiled as the woman who was her same height but much older let her go. "Thank you for letting me come. I didn't want to be a bother." 

"Nonsense. You're always welcome to come. How else would I be able to thank you for patching my boy up time and time again." Her smile was infectious. Molly smiled as Mrs. Watson began to lead her up the staircase into the house, completely forgetting about the two boys who shook their heads before joining the girls inside.

You probably wouldn't be able to tell but Sherlock had visibly relaxed as he took a seat on one of the chairs in the dining area. There was a circle of chairs around it, five wooden ones to be exact. A small bowl of lilies was the centerpiece. 

"I think she'll like it here, what do you think Sherlock?" John asked as he sat down next to his friend. Sherlock picked up his head from his folded arms on the table. He blinked for a moment as if he had just realized something. "I think that's rather obvious, John." As John opened his mouth to retort something back Sherlock continued. "It's better to start off with something familiar and homey than to scare her off with my family."

"Does that mean you care if she stays around or not?" John asked.

"It's tea time isn't it?" John had to shake his head at how ridiculous Sherlock got whenever he asked something remotely plausible that would result in him fessing up that he could actually be human. At least when it came to the girl. 

It wasn't like John was sure himself. Both Sherlock and Molly were strange around each other. It was almost like they wanted to not spill anything about the other. As if they had a secret. John couldn't help but think how the Holmes admirers wouldn't like that very much. It would only make things worse for poor Molly Hooper. It had already gotten worse when somehow it was let known she was coming with them for break.

No one usually came with them. It was usually the two of them with the occasional old friend stopping by to say hello. It was almost like an uproar but the admirers who had been warned multiple times by not only the adminstration but by Sherlock himself that if they did something harmful towards Molly there would be consequences. That in itself should have sent them running. When you were on the receiving end of his icy glare you knew to back off. It didn't faze any of the girls though.

It was sickening in future Doctor Watson's opinion. He was lucky he didn't have to deal with them. 

"Yes, it is." John said in answer to Sherlock's question. He had even checked the clock across the way to help him think he didn't know what Sherlock was doing. He wasn't stupid. 

Soon another person joined the boys. Someone who John wasn't expecting to see. "Hello Sherlock, Watson." She winked in John's direction as she plopped down opposite of Sherlock on the other side. 

"What do we owe this pleasure, Miss Adler?" Sherlock sighed as she smiled one of her wicked smiles in his direction. He ignored it as watched Molly walk over with a tray to the half table against the wall. Mrs. Watson had made tea and asked Molly to serve it seems. How very domestic.

He watched as she focus on pouring each individual cup and then working on each different variation of sugar, milk or cream. Another inference he was able to make, Molly had been given their orders. She had never made tea for them before, that was a more obvious conclusion to that.

"Heard you were coming home to mummy. Thought I'd drop in as a surprise. Don't you miss me?" Her tone and the way the words slithered out her mouth made it hard for Sherlock to not be annoyed. It was repulsive. 

"Not particularly."

John had to laugh at that. Irene just pouted at his rejection of her wicked ways before turning her attention to Molly whom she hadn't noticed before. "Would you be a dear and bring me a cup as well?"

"Irene..." John began, his tone was a flick of a flame. 

"She's not your...a maid." Sherlock gritted out as he watched Molly again. She had tensed slightly before nodding a second and going back to what she was doing. There was an odd movement which only would be used if turning something over. She had turned over a new cup. She was going to compile with Irene's request. It made Sherlock frown, she didn't have to do that.

"How was I to know? She dresses so horrible. It was the only conclusion I could come up with it. Don't have to be angry because of that."

Sherlock was about to retort again when the sound of plates, small saucers began to be placed in front of each of them. Then came their each individual cup of tea. She didn't look upset. In fact she looked perfectly fine which was odd. John was about to say something when Molly spoke as she placed the little extra containers that help the sugar, creamer and milk inside them and the serving kettle as well in the center where it could be reached. 

"Mrs. Watson wanted to show me something upstairs. I hope you enjoy your tea." She did a small bow which would usually be customary of a house servant to do before walking up the staircase.

The others didn't catch it but Sherlock of course did. The bow was a nudge at the fact that she had heard Irene's comment about her attire. It was a silent retort that basically let Irene know without saying it that she liked what she wore no matter how horrible Irene felt it looked. 

Tea was enjoyed in silence for the post part until Irene decided that she had done more than enough damage tonight and went on her way. Not before trying to presuade Sherlock into more intimate acts. He declined not so politely before finishing off his tea and going back to his phone.

Molly had lied about Mrs. Watson wanting to show her something but she did want to go upstairs and away from the woman. It hadn't hurt as much as the boys had probably thought it would for Irene to insult her in that way. Molly was used to people speaking illy of her attire.

She had learned to get over it.

That wasn't what had upset her. There were two things. One she didn't want to admit that she was envious of how close the woman seemed with Sherlock as well as herself. She was gorgeous, it was almost painful to sneak peeks of her while she was readying tea for all of them. Then there was the fact that tomorrow was an important day for Molly. Tomorrow was her mum's birthday.

She could be honest with herself and say that she wasn't ready for it. There were certain things that she usually did on that day with her mother that would not be done again. It brought about that sadness again. It's why she was crying. Those days with her mom had always been so special.

It was a bit of a surprise as Molly heard the door creak open later on that night when she was sure everyone had already tucked in for the night. She had stopped crying awhile ago. Now there were just sobs that she had been trying to lessen enough that she could sleep. 

A cool hand brushed back her hair and she opened her eyes to see the warm eyes of John's mum smiling at her. "We can go visit her in the morning before breakfast. I've gone a few times since the burial." She spoke quietly as she continued to brush softly at Molly's forehead. It was a soothing gesture that soon lulled Molly to sleep. It was a mother's touch. Something that Mrs. Watson could still manage as long as someone needed it. She knew Molly needed. 

Tomorrow she would try to make it better for the young girl who if the older woman was honest had experienced too much for a girl much too small. It would be better in the morning, she thought as she stayed a little longer before retiring to her own bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular section goes over four parts. I hope you enjoy this new bit. :)


	5. The Shift In Our Fate (Part Two)

For anyone who's ever lost someone the mornings are always particularly difficult. Especially so when it comes to mourning a fresh departure. In Molly Hooper's case this was true. Today despite that was difficult for another reason. She slowly pulled back the sheets of her bed in the guest room and swung her feet over the side. 

Before moving any further she grabbed the small locket that she had taken off before bed the previous night and clasped it around her neck. She made sure it was in place before opening the golden heart locket and smiling a little at the photograph that was inside. Instead of taking her framed portrait that usually lay beside her bedside in her dormitory she had a smaller item to have with her. A memento.

She closed the locket back and got to her feet, going about her usual routine of getting dressed for the day. Molly decided to go for a more simple look. She had packed a few clothes so this wasn't gonna be much of a hassle. She chose a creamy colored blouse that stopped at her shoulders sleeves wise and a navy blue flowy skirt that went down to her knees. She paired a pair of mary janes and a navy blue cardigan near the same shade of her skirt with it. A quick brush through of her hair. Because of the fact she might cry more this morning she went ahead and skipped the minimal amount of make-up she usually went for.

Not long after she finished her transition from night clothes to daywear she heard a knock on her door. Molly quietly turned to see Mrs. Watson peeking her head in. "Are you ready, dear?" She was smiling which gave Molly a bit of a confidence boost of how things would go. She smiled and nodded as she peered once more into the mirror to make sure she looked presentable before continuing on to follow the older lady out. 

The house was much quieter in the morning. There were a few lights on to guide them down the stairs and out the back door. The sky looked a bit dark and as a last minute preparation Mrs. Watson grabbed two umbrellas before they left. If they were lucky it would only rain as they came back. 

Three hours after their departure the other house guests began to move about the home. Sherlock Holmes had been awake when the ladies had left but made no move to let anyone know that. He and John were sharing John's old room. It had always been this way when they came for a visit. There had never been any arguments about it so why change anything.

Sherlock eased his way out of the room after dressing and made his journey down to the dining area where they enjoyed the tea Molly prepared for them and chatted before going up for bed. As expected there were an assortment of foods spread about the table and containers of beverages suited for waking up in the morning (i.e. apple and orange juice, coffee, cappuccino, etc.). All prepared by a man Sherlock knew too well. Mr. Bill Watson.

He soon joined him at the table and began piling up his plate with food before greeting Sherlock himself. He passed him the morning paper knowing that the younger lad would want to look at it. It had been odd the first few times that the two men meet that Sherlock made inquiries about the news but over time it was expected. He wasn't like most of the boys. Certainly not like his son John but he liked Sherlock despite the few times he said something out of place. Those had been mere observations, as he had so eloquently put it. It was something all of them had gotten used to. "Sleep well, Sherlock?"

"Not a wink, sir." He mumbled as he flipped through the newspaper quickly, eyes moving, looking for something particular. Murders. He soon folded it back to the way it was when it was given to him and poured himself a cup of coffee and began preparing it as he too waited.

Then their last addition came. John smiled as he greeted them both. "Where's Molly and Mum?" He asked after a brief moment of silence.

"They left three hours, twenty minutes, and thirty seven seconds ago but should be back in from their visit to the cemetery in about three minutes give or take a few seconds. The rain is a bit of a horrendous factor in the matter." Sherlock spoke quickly before grabbing a biscuit and putting it on his plate.

During those three minutes each of them began to indulge in the delicious food. Not much was said for the moment either. That was more out of respect and manners than anything else. 

Molly and Mrs. Watson came in quickly through the back door hurriedly trying to shut the door. One conjoined push and they were able to sigh in relief of being out of the dreadful downpour of a weather change. It was much warmer inside the house thankfully. 

Mrs. Watson helped stow away the wet umbrellas and sweaters before grabbing a few towels which were always back there in cases like these where someone got caught up in the storm. Molly towel dried her hair a bit before joining the boys in the dining area. She took the seat next to John seeing as there really wasn't anywhere else to seat. So there counterclockwise they sat: Mr. Watson, Mrs. Watson, Molly, and Sherlock.

There was a few moments where they discussed how quickly the rain poured before John and Bill began helping Molly and Mrs. Watson with food and drinks as they began to settle into the warmth. Somewhere during the exchanges Sherlock noticed the adults turn towards their son and only other female house guest.

This caused a bit of confusion for Sherlock because he couldn't see what was going on or what made the older gentleman smile that way. He stayed quiet and watched as everyone went back to eating. It was only when Bill began with a question did anything change.

"John, so have you finally whipped Molly up then?"

There was a slew of near deaths by choking on John's part, a blush covered Molly's cheeks as she strategically placed her hand above her mouth to cover it as she swallowed the bit of biscuit she was eating then Sherlock look just plain appalled at the question.

"What? No, dad. Molly and I are just friends." John stated once he had used a bit of water to help with the coughing and the unchewed biscuit that had to go down his esophagus.

"Oh. My mistake. I just figured since she has helped you every time you ended up in a brawl that something happen."

This was very fascinating to Sherlock once he got passed the obvious mistake on Mr. Watson's part. It never occurred to him that it was possible that his best friend and lab partner could possibly fancied each other. No, that simply didn't seem like the case anyhow. 

"I don't believe that's the case, sir. Molly was only do her servic duty as a volunteer at the clinic. Right, Molly?" Sherlock just need some clarity on the subject.

"Yes. Just my job of sorts. Nothing that I wouldn't do for anyone that comes in after a brawl. He is my friend however."

"Sorry about that then." Bill chuckled before getting up from the table mentioning something about needing to go to his study to work on a new project. Mrs. Watson stayed around for a little bit longer to finish her coffee before going up for a quick shower and a little rest.

"How was the visit with your mom?" John asked some time later when the trio had settled in the small reading area to play chess. Well, where Sherlock and John decided to play chess. Molly had brought a book down from her room and glanced up at them a couple times. 

She wanted to look over a bit of the material she and Sherlock would be going over for their project at the Holmes mansion. He had briefly told her about a lab there that they would be using within the next few days when they arrived there. 

"It was nice."

"What could be nice about visiting your dead mother's gravesite?" Sherlock asked as he moved his knight and took ownership of one of John's pawns. This was the fourth game they were on and the odds were in Sherlock's favor as they were the entirety of the other games. John wasn't giving up however.

Molly didn't even feel like she had to answer that question. As a result it caused Sherlock to pick his head up from the chessboard which he had been concentrated on. He didn't like when he was ignored but he would ignore them all he wanted if he felt that they were being idiotic or weren't worth his time.

John was glaring at him, again. Sometimes he did that when Sherlock did something wrong. John got ready to explain to him what he said wasn't a good thing when Molly lifted her head and began talking carefully like she did the past couple times when he made her feel bad and she decided to speak up to him.

"Do you ever think through your thoughts before speak them aloud or do you think you're always correct in your assumptions? That wasn't kind to me. It was nice to go to the gravesite because it gives me a bit of closure and peace. Especially since I haven't been there since the burial and I can feel her presence there. It helped me a bit. It would be in your best interest if you carefully thought through what you said instead of just saying it. The odds of what you have to say being nice aren't very high."

"I asked out of curiosity. I am fully aware that it wasn't a nice way to phrase it." He stated calmly as he looked over at Molly. She looked quite calm, despite how heated the conversation seemed to be getting.

Molly sighed in defeat knowing that there was no way around him seeing his fault at the current moment and went back to her book. 

"She's right. You need to know that. You need to try to be more delicate when you're dealing with certain matters." John stated quietly as he moved his next piece.

"It's bothersome. This is how I am. Why should I change?"

John just sighed and shook his head. "Not everyone can adjust to how you are. You can make a few adjustments for her. It's not like you hate her. It's clear you don't mind her company. You like it even."

"How would you know that, John?" Sherlock muttered as he whispered checkmate. Another game won, he held back a smile as he waited for his friend's answer.

"You haven't brushed her aside yet."

"She's interesting. That's the only reason. Besides I need her help with the project. We are chemistry partners."

"I'm sure." John mumbled trying not to let Sherlock hear him but by his expression he did. He looked shocked. He quickly composed himself as he began setting up the board again for another game if John wanted to play.

"Molly, would you like to play a game with Sherlock?" Molly looked over at John and a few conflicted emotions surfaced on her face as she came up with an answer. "Sure."

She unfolded her legs from the odd position they were on the couch and approached them. John moved from the chair and let her slide in.

"You know how to play chess?" There went that tone again. He didn't know whether to be curious or insulting towards her. She rolled her eyes as she nodded. She took a look at the board before deciding to twist it around so that she had the white pieces and Sherlock had the black.

"Molly is great at chess." John beamed as he pulled a chair over so that he could watch the match. Molly smiled at him before moving her first pawn as Sherlock gestured for her to go first.

The game went like that for a moment before things grew more and more intense. Sherlock looked really intensely at the board in concentration while Molly looked happily amused at his predicament. He was bound to lose but that wasn't exactly set in stone yet. If he made the correct move that is.

As he moved his knight over to a safe place it seemed, Molly held back a giggle as she captured his king. "Checkmate." She muttered as she got up and left the room, leaving a very baffled Sherlock Holmes. 

You're always supposed to protect the king.


	6. The Shift In Our Fate (Part Three)

The last day with the Watsons was spent out and about after the storm. It was muggy outside but it was nice for everyone to get out and stretch their legs and play a little catch. It was a bit tedious to Sherlock after awhile but Mrs. Watson made it fun by suggesting that they each say something completely random each time one of them caught the ball which was an American football.

John's dad had gotten it while on a trip over there a few months ago and from time to time when John was home they would tussle around outside. The randomness of it all was quite amusing to Molly, eliciting a few giggles from her. It had become a bit of a game after awhile to get Molly to laugh. She had a cheerful laugh.

They did stop playing after some time and John's parents decided to go inside while the boys and Molly went on a walk in town. Molly had only been inside town once when she was last here at the Watson's home after offering to go get a few things for Mrs. Watson. At the time Molly had just stopped by to help John inside after he had injured his leg during a hiking trip that their survival class went on last year.

The class only lasted a semester however, so not many incidents in nature happened. John had just happened to miss the rock he had been trying to step onto to go up the mountain type cliff they were trekking up and he twisted his leg. It caused a bit of trouble for him for the next couple weeks. He pulled through, as always.

The town was a bit small but it was big enough that everything was close together. The trio, Molly and John out voted him and decided to get a few pastries to bring back for the dinner they were having. Sherlock seemed to not mind the picking out the delectable treats upon getting inside the small bakery and the scent hit him. It made Molly smile to see him not being so grumpy about things. Sweets did have odd effects on people, though.

Once they had purchased them, they started back up to the house. It wasn't much of a trek but it still took a bit of time. Upon their arrival back inside they were greeted by a worried stricken Mrs. Watson. She quickly hugged and kissed each of them and let them know how she wished they would have told her where they were going when they suddenly left. 

It took Sherlock a moment to blink away the shock of Mrs. Watson blatant show of affection towards him. Once he got over it, he spoke quickly. "We're perfectly fine. No need to fret." There was a weak nudge in his side and he looked over to see Molly rolling her eyes at him.

"What he meant was that we're sorry that we worried you. We did bring a bit of dessert back though." Molly smiled and that's really all it took for things to be brushed aside and then they were settling in for dinner. 

The rest of the night was spent discussing the morning's plans. Sherlock and Molly would set off for his family home without John whom wanted to stay behind to have more time with his family. Sherlock didn't try to change that though there was a bit of a change in his demeanor for awhile the wheels in his head began to turn and he realized that this would be the first time he was really alone with Molly for more than a few hours. It really shouldn't have mattered but with his family involved it could get bothersome.

He mulled over it a bit after dinner was over and the boys settled in the library / living room. Molly had went up to shower and make sure her things were packed for the morning.

"Are you sure you won't want to eventually come?" Sherlock said as he flicked through the paper that had come that day. He hadn't had a chance to go through it because they had been out that morning. 

"Yes. It's not like you'll be entirely alone Sherlock. Molly will be there too."

"Precisely. It could be a bit troublesome." He mumbled as he began to read over a case that had been developing over the past couple weeks. It shouldn't have taken them (Scotland Yard) that long to solve it. They weren't as good as him, however he thought.

"You should just need to watch out for her. Having all of you in the same vicinity could do more harm to her than if it was just you. She can handle you."

"Handle? What do you mean by that?" Sherlock put down the paper and looked at his friend.

"I just mean she's able to deal with your slip ups of saying rude things. You know how your family is. They can be difficult to tolerate. Then there is your rival that I hear is back around."

Sherlock hummed at the last part. He had heard whispers about his reappearance. That might be a bigger nuisance than dealing with Mycroft and his mother. He'd handle it, as he always did. Molly was merely there to help him with their project and as a guest. Not entirely uncommon in that household.

Molly came down then in her night clothes and a book in tow. It was something that Sherlock had read years ago, he paid her no attention as he went back to the paper and continued to thoroughly check it for any interesting matters he could figure out.

Molly stretched back out on the vacant sofa and continued reading the chapter she was reading about the pros and cons of using laser to manual surgery. It wasn't really much but she had started this chapter and she wanted to finish it. She liked reading up on things like this despite her preferred profession will call for work on dead bodies. It still was interesting to read.

Soon however, she grew tired after three chapters and accidentally fell asleep.

Sherlock had finished reading by then and had moved to observe the young woman. Like he had told John, he found her interesting some of the time. He had learned a few things as he watched her read. She chewed on her bottom lip when she read anything new that she didn't know about and found interesting. Her shoulders rounded up a bit but if it wasn't particularly interesting she was quite calm looking and relaxed. 

He had noticed when her eyes began to droop of course but he figured she would have gone upstairs at that point. The read wasn't that fascinating, she could have marked the page and went up. He didn't stop her from falling asleep though. He didn't talk to her.

He had to do something this time though. He couldn't leave her out here during the night. The house was safe but there was something about not being in a room safely sleeping that off put him. 

He waited a few moments after noticing that John was no longer sitting in his usual seat and got out of his own chair and walked over to the girl. He moved the book first, closing it with the handmade bookmark in the spot where she left off and then stood there going through the few ways that he could do this without causing her to stir. He went with the easiest. One he had seen done before in a few of the tv movies that John watched on occasion.

The good thing about it was she was already turned over on her back so there was a higher probability that he would be successful. He leaned down, slid his hands under her legs and positioned the other under her neck. Once he was sure that he had her securely he stood up and adjusted her a bit. He tiltef his head a moment and waited to see if she would move before going any further. She squirmed slightly but ended up curling a bit in his arms.

It made his lips twitch just the slightest. He just sighed before beginning to head upstairs. He slowly made it up there and was relieved to see her door already open. It was a good thing too. If not, things could have gotten a bit difficult. He quickly slipped in the door and carefully placed her on her bed. He tucked her in like he remembered moms doing that sometimes and then walked out.

A definite success. 

The morning came quite quickly for Molly. She was in a bit of a fuzzy state when she was woken up by several knocks on her door. They weren't as quiet as one Mrs. Watson would make, nor as courteous as John's. It was a bit of a rushed and demanding knocking which only made her realize that it was Sherlock. 

She groaned as she slowly pulled herself up and out of the bed. From there she went ahead and changed into her clothes for the journey further away from here. Sherlock hadn't said much about his family's place but she knew that it would take them some time to get there. She went to the bathroom to finish her transformation from night to day and to brush her teeth and comb out her hair. She ended up pulling it back but that's more out of the lack of time to do much of anything else to it.

Molly stuffed her toiletries in her bag before grabbing it and making her descent down the stairs where everyone else was waiting. She placed her things down next to the door as Molly said her goodbyes to the Watsons. Mr. & Mrs. Watson gave her hugs and told her to come back some time and then John gave her a nice long hug and whispered that she should try not to mind anything that happened over the next few days around the Holmes. They were their own class of people. Then kissed her cheek and told her he'd see her back at the academy next week.

Molly joined Sherlock who stood waiting by another one of those town cars that she was in a few days ago. He slipped in shortly after saying something to John who had shouted something to him. Molly wasn't too sure what that was about but just brushed it off as the car began to move. Sherlock chose to stare out the window, making no move to start a conversation so Molly decided that getting a little rest wouldn't hurt. She felt exhausted still anyhow. Rest would be good.

"Molly." Sherlock called her name forcing her awake from her deep slumber. She blinked for moment trying to adjust her eyes and then turned to him. He was already getting out. That were there now. She felt like they hadn't traveled that far.

When she joined him outside the car she was quick to realize that they were no longer in the small countryside where John's family resided. This was something far more grandeur. In the back of her mind Molly told herself that she shouldn't have expected anything less but it was a bit difficult to take in in the present. It was nearly a page out of an old Victorian novel. It was better and it stilled her in her spot.

Sherlock had moved towards the staircase that led inside but immediately halted in his steps when he noticed that she hadn't followed him. He turned his head and stared at her for a moment, looking for any signs of distress. There weren't any thankfully. She was awestruck if anything, he saw. He didn't see why though. It was just a house. To someone who wasn't use to this kind of living this was incredible. 

"Are you coming then?" He decided it was best to move things along accordingly. This was just the outside. He was a bit curious of how she would react to the inside if she was basically paralyzed to the ground.

She bounced back pretty quickly and looked over at him and nodded. She went to turn to the trunk when he called out again. "Leave it, someone will get them." Molly breathed out and began to meet him up the stairs which he climbed quickly with his lanky long legs in advantage.

The doors were pushed open before either of them could begin to open themselves and another man stood there. He looked anything but regal from his tailored suit to the way he obviously kept himself up. "Hello brother." He greeted with a brief smile before it disappeared.

Sherlock moved around him without speaking and beckoned Molly to do the same. She did slowly, not really enjoying being scrutinized by another Holmes. She knew this to be his older brother by the looks of him. "Where have your manners gone, dear brother? I believe a few introductions are in order." He sneered at Sherlock before approaching Molly who felt uneasy as the tension in the foyer chilled the entire area. "Molly Hooper, correct?" He extended a hand to her and after looked at Sherlock who frowned but didn't say much to acknowledge that he wasn't going to stop the greeting. She nodded and slid her hand into his. "Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's older brother. Pleasure."

Molly went to pull her hand away but then Mycroft began speaking quickly all the whole tilting her hand this way as he firmly grasped it. "Hm. Good choice in a future profession by the state of your hands. You've battered them up quite a bit during experiments and cadaver examinations for your anatomy course a few months ago. Any other job probably wouldn't have worked out well. You should try to form a schedule for sleeping as you rarely get any as you often are up crying. What a pity, really."

"Mycroft." Sherlock growled as he came and separated their hands and began ushering Molly into the next room. She seemed a bit on edge as she took a much needed seat on a couch. 

"How did he know all that?" Molly asked as she looked over at Sherlock who was sitting across from her but wasn't paying much attention once he had made sure she was away from his brother.

"It's a bit of a speciality in our family." He muttered without staring at her, he seemed to be somewhere else entirely. Molly didn't ask, just looked around the room. There were many shelves of books and a few plants set around the room on small circular tables set in the corners. A set off drapes near the large window were pulled back so that the light could filter through. It was a sitting room but not exactly what would be seen in a middle or lower classed family's home. Not that that would change throughout the rest of the house. 

"Tea, anyone?" Molly head picked up at the sound of the voice. Sherlock moved quickly to greet her as well. He pecked her cheek and then stepped back a moment as she gave him a once over.

Molly just sat there and marveled at the woman standing there. She and Sherlock were one in the same as far as looks went. Before she could bring herself to look more on that she admired the gown that seemed to accentuate the older woman's figure. She had one. It was a flashy number that brought Molly back to the dress fiasco with the woman's soon the previous month. It all made sense then. It almost made her smile before she went back to looking at the similarities between the mother and son.

Sherlock and his mum had the same piercing blue grey eyes and curly dark locks. Hers were a bit on the longer side but she was a woman and they framed her face much like her son's. The high cheekbones were another thing as well. It was remarkable to see something like this. It made her wonder were they all this good looking? 

The feeling of being less adequate and small in comparison came back up. This time it came in the form of her lab partners mother. Each time it was a woman, that had to mean something however.

Sherlock and Ms. Holmes conversed quietly for a moment before he turned to leave almost hesitantly. That left the two females together. Molly being honest a lot of the time now, wasn't too sure how she was supposed to handle this. She was quite inferior when it came to the two of them. 

Ms. Holmes smiled as she glided over to the chair Sherlock once sat in with her legs crossed, a bit of her leg showed due to a slit up the side of the dress. Molly couldn't help but noticed how slim and smooth looking it looked but looked away in embarrassment knowing that she probably would have looked at as strange. "Hello dear." She heard a bit of a humorous tone to the woman's voice as she looked up. "Molly, wasn't it? Yes. It's not everyday that my son brings home someone who isn't John Watson. I was beginning to worry about him. You're the first female he's ever brought in case you were wondering. It was surprising to all of us upon finding out. He didn't say anything of course." There was a brief pause as Ms. Holmes looked over Molly's appearance. It was adorable in her opinion. The girl was quite small but seemed to have something intriguingly special about her. She couldn't put her finger on it yet.

"We keep a close eye on him, you see. He likes to do things that aren't practical. It's upsetting sometimes. Regardless, I do love him. What about you Molly dear? Do you love him?" Molly drew in an intake of breath out of surprise than anything. She hadn't seen that question coming. It was executed rather quickly. "Oh. Did my asking you make you uncomfortable? My apologies, I like to know these things since he doesn't divulge much information."

"No, it's alright. I'm growing accustomed to people being curious about me. To answer your question," Molly paused briefly as she noticed the older woman perk up a bit at the fact she might tell her something particularly interesting. "No, we're not like that. I'm just his lab partner. He is interesting though." That was the truth and she knew she may have disappointed his mother but she didn't lie about things. 

"What a pity, are you friends then?" There was the second time that phrase popped up in this house. It was making Molly feel conflicted about being in the house. She tried not to show how much it bothers her but she knew she wasn't great at hiding her true feelings from her face. "I'm not exactly sure yet." 

Molly shrugged and almost sighed in relief as Sherlock came back in the room carrying a tray of teacups. "I hope I wasn't missed too much. Have a nice chat?" He smiled, trying to be discreet about checking on the condition of his lab partner. She was concerned about something but smiled at him anyway in a way that let him know she was fine.

"Molly's quite lovely, Sherlock. Thanks." His mom muttered as he passed her the cup that was designated for her on a little plate. Then he gave Molly's hers and grabbed his as he took a seat on the sofa a bit away from Molly but still fairly close. 

"Did you discuss anything particularly interesting?" He took a sip of his tea and eyed the two women over his cup. His mum seemed a bit more cheery than usual and Molly seemed a bit more relaxed. It was strange for him to see. 

"Hm. No, nothing that you'd be interested in Sherlock. Girl talk mostly. I haven't had much of it in awhile. She's a delight really. I think you should show her the lab when we're done here. Given your partnership it may interest her." Sherlock having known his mother longer was able to pick up on several keywords and hidden messages in her answer. He turned stoic as he gave a nod.

"Very well then. Dinner is at six, or has it changed?"

"Seven thirty. We're having a few special guests over." She smiled again. Molly knew there were some underlying tones to her message but she wasn't well versed him the Holmes communication. She sat quietly as they spoke, observing them until tea time was over. 

Once it was a maid came through and cleared away all the dishes. Ms. Holmes spoke quickly as she began to exit the room. "It was a pleasure to meet you dear. I will see you both later at dinner." Then she was gone. 

"I feel like I should apologize on my mother's behalf for anything that she might have said." Sherlock started but Molly just stopped him while he was there knowing he didn't enjoy apologizing in the slightest. There seemed to be no need anyhow. 

"It's fine. She was fine. You have a lab in your house?" She redirected the conversation to something more safe. Sherlock stood and gestured for her to come along. He had a sort of smile on his face. More like a smirk but she could tell he was finally get a break from family time. It made him less tense, she noticed.

The lab being their next destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more for this section! Hope you like it everyone. See you soon! :D  
> much love,  
> day


	7. The Shift In Our Fate (Part Four)

Molly Hooper was completely awestruck at how the Holmes lived. It may have went up a knotch upon Sherlock showing her the lab where they would be working during the next few days. It was beyond anything she could have envisioned it to be. Actually, no she hadn't thought it was possible to have your own lab to have at your disposal whenever you needed it. 

It was a dream really. Out of all the things she had seen it had been the most amazing to her. It also made her wonder about the cashflow that the family obviously had. It was high, she was sure. The lab was fully stocked with all the items you would see in a normal school laboratory as well as more. There were many updated versions of equipment as well. It was really fantastic.

All of it made her eager to start. 

Her lack of reaction was amusing to Sherlock Holmes. He half expected her to freak out at seeing all the different things that they had acquired through certain officials in both the science and medical fields. She didn't though. She just looked genuinely happy over it all. 

That was good. He thought before sitting down on one of the stools and turning on the switch to light up the microscope that was in front of him. He grabbed a slide and called to Molly who was looking around still and she twirled around to him. She jumped a moment after realizing he had moved and headed over to the other vacant stool and sat down. 

There was a folder on her side of the table and she grabbed it as he peered at her briefly as she opened the folder and began rummaging through the folder looking for something. He had already seen what was in, he had stuffed most of the material in there the night before and had made sure that it was brought down here by the time they got there. 

Molly was quick when in the midst of an assignment, Sherlock remembered. He saw her start to rearrange the pages in the middle where he'd be able to grab them if he needed them. Very courteous. He moved his eyes over to the lenses of the microscope then, fiddling with the knob that changed the objective lenses to change it so that the image became much more clear.

The slide was of a sliver of the sap of a particular maple tree. They were doing a study of how they changed as you took samples of different types of trees bark and sap. They would have to look at all twenty slides and accumulate their hypothesis before going any further. Each slide would be observed carefully as to not make a mistake. That wouldn't work. 

The whole project was rather tedious and much too simple but it was required in order to pass the term. There was still the matter of putting the presentation portion of it together but that would be taken care of tomorrow, Sherlock decided. 

As they got down to the final five slides a knock on the lab's door and a quiet voice telling them that dinner was ready. Sherlock was quick about exiting the lab, leaving everything as it was. Molly stared at the moment before quickly joining him outside the door. He had waited for her, surprisingly. Molly couldn't help thinking that he probably didn't think she could find her way to the dining room on her own. She had no idea where it was. At least he was being a bit more nice to her than previously.

Once making it down to the dining room there was a noticeable change in the atmosphere. The air was much more thick and many servants were mulling around doing a last minute check of the table which was a long rectangular oak piece with at least twenty five cushioned stars tucked in front of each plate that was covered with a metal lid. The seats weren't vacant however.

Many official looking men and women were seated at the table. The final two seats were positioned directly next to each other. Molly followed Sherlock over to them and took her seat first as he had pulled out her chair for her, then he slid in right next to her. 

Molly grew more overwhelmed as Ms. Holmes began introducing each guest that joined them. Each person held a particular high position in the goverment. Each reminded her that this should be a big deal to be sitting down for a meal with them. However, it seemed like a normal occurrence. Molly tried her best to not appear like she was even the slightest off put by any of it.

She was to a degree. She had stayed quiet for the majority of the meal, not sure if she should say anything and not knowing what to say. She took small bites of food, trying not to see eager to consume every morsel despite her hungry state. 

Every thing had gone pretty well until they arrived at the final course of dinner; dessert. Molly had drunk quite a bit of water, opting out of water because as Sherlock pointed out for the second time in the time they had been each other companions in any capacity, she didn't drink. The servers standing nearby were quick to exchange the glass of Sherry for a cool glass of water.

Molly needed to go to the restroom. It shouldn't have been much of a problem. It was normal for a person to need to go at some time. The issue lied in how to go about excusing herself to go do that. Molly couldn't help the mantra that kept replaying over and over in her head. Basically screaming it by now, "Just excuse yourself, ask one of the attendants and then come back. It's not that hard. Waiting will only make it build up more. You have to Molly, just get up and go. C'mon. You can do it." 

Molly had been trying to build the courage to just do it. It wasn't as simple as it should have been for her. One reason being that she felt embarrassed around all these people. It somehow felt very wrong to have to do this around so many important people. 

She didn't move though, she continued to consume the chocolate mousse with whipped cream on the top. It didn't hit her that to any of the outside spectators that she did look troubled. That was the case though. 

Ms. Holmes being the person to comment on it. "Is there a problem, Molly?"

Molly looked up, startled for a moment before realizing she should probably give an answer. She had asked her a question. "Oh no. I'm fine." She shook her head as she quietly took a sip of her water. This wasn't helping her much.

"Are you sure, dear? You look anxious."

Molly nervously chuckled, feeling Sherlock staring at her from the right. "I kinda have to use the loo." Her hands were clasped together tightly in her lap. She was trying not to fidget too much.

A few chuckles surfaced in the room and then Ms. Holmes called out for one the servants named Louise to come show her where the restroom was located. Molly slowly got to her feet and followed the woman dressed like most of the workers in the house. A light blue button up dress shirt and a pair of khakis. 

Louise, as the lady of the house had called the woman didn't say much of anything. She began up the stairs and down a few hallways that Molly was sure not to remember how to get back from until they stopped at a door. "Here we are, Miss."

She smiled in gratitude at the nice lady before going past the door and inside. Like all the rooms it was a rather large and extravagant looking restroom. There was even a sitting area as if someone would come in here to sit for more than use of the toilet. Molly wasn't entirely sure of that. She didn't exactly know what went on in this family. 

She went about her business, washed her hands and dried them with one of the hand towels sitting by the sink in a wicker basket. She was careful to not mess with anything else before turning to exit.

Molly frowned upon finding herself alone in the hallway. She blew out a breathe as she looked around trying to figure out the best way to go. The distance looked about the same but she knew each would lead her in entirely two different directions. She chose the left.

That ended up being the wrong way to go, she realized after awhile of turning around and around and not finding the large dining room again. She tooked a piece of hair out of her face and leaned against a wall. She remembered seeing a horror movie on the telly once where a woman ended up falling back into a hidden room accidentally by leaning against a wall. She wonder if there were any here. 

"Are you lost, Miss?"

Molly jumped at the sudden voice speaking to her since she was the only person out there. She turned and saw a man dressed exactly like one of the butlers here. In a black suit, a bit more expensive in taste but it looked exactly the same. She almost jumped for joy at the fact that he could possibly help her navigate the treacherously long hallways. 

"Oh. Yes, I am. I was trying to find my way back to the dining area where Sherlock is. Though I'm not sure if anybody is still there. I'm not that great at navigating this home yet. It's extraordinary."

"Yes. The Holmes enjoy high class things. I believe I just saw him. Let me take you to him." The boy, now that she really could see he wasn't that much older than Sherlock himself had a kind looking face. He smiled at her kindly as he waited.

"Alright." She smiled and walked the few metres to him. Then they were walking quickly. He did seem to know where he was going. 

Soon the cool area of the night hit her as she found herself standing outside of a couple doors. She was confused, why would Sherlock come outside at a time like this? It didn't make sense. 

"Are you sure you saw him out here?"

"Of course, Miss Hooper. Wait a moment." He spoke quickly from behind her. In hindsight that probably raised many red flags in her head but there was much she could do as she felt a small tick of pain hit her before she crumbled to the ground unconscious.

The man grinned happily at the sight of his target laying on the cool floor of grass. It wouldn't be long now before he came and found her anyway. It wasn't really a problem. It was all good fun. It wasn't like he had killed her. No, he just wanted to grab Sherlock's attention. 

She's quite a silly girl, he thought as he shoved the syringe back in his suits inner pocket. There was no need to leave any evidence around. She would be fine.

"Molly." 

Ah. There he was. Sherlock stood stock still as he noticed him first and then there was a small flicker of his eyes as he took in the girl on the ground. She was still breathing he noticed. Good. Sherlock nodded before taking the few steps down so that he was closer to his rival. 

"What brings you here James?" 

"Hello dear. How've you been?" He smiled at him again. 

Sherlock just stared at him. There was no need to answer him quite yet, he had more to say he knew. 

"Sorry about the mess. I needed to find a way to bring you out from Mummy and that brother of yours. They are so protective." He hummed a moment during a brief pause. He was so theatrical, it was annoying to Sherlock even after all these years of dealing with him. "Anyway...our little game is back on. Lestrade should be contacting you soon. Something interesting is in the works."

"I wasn't aware you were still interested in playing. It's been nearly two years, Moriarty."

"I got a little busy. Not to worry. It's back on. Just came to give you a little heads up." James turned his gaze from Sherlock at the movement of younger girl getting up. She was struggling but had managed to get to her feet. A little swaying from the drug still working it's way out of her system. "Oh. She's gonna be angry. She's been up for awhile actually. The drug makes you a little fuzzy." He chuckled. 

Sherlock had already come to the conclusion that James was trying to make. She had heard their conversation. That would bring a problem. Not that she knew exactly what they were discussing but the implications were still there. She had been used as a ploy in their game. 

James was gone now. He had made his retreat when Sherlock had turned his gaze back to Molly. She seemed a bit more there. Her eyes were a bit glassy but for the most part she could handle herself. She walked towards him slowly. He stared not sure what she would do.

Moriarty had been correct, she was angry. Her teeth were clenched, jaw a little slack from the fuzziness as he had called the after effects of whatever he had injected into her body. 

He expected her to speak like usual. Not necessarily like everything was fine, no. She would tell him he was wrong again about what he did this time since he didn't say anything insulting to her. However that didn't happen. 

Something else much more unexpected happened. Molly Hooper slapped him, hard on his face. She didn't apologize afterwards. She just began talking quickly. The fury still apparent in her tone.

"I don't enjoy being a pawn in your games with that Jim person. I'm tired of you subjecting me to harm with your words that are just plain cruel. I don't need this. I'm just over it. Don't bother me anymore."

Then just like that she left him standing there. He was in shock. She had slapped him. He never thought she would ever have the nerve to go that far.

The game was on, however. He couldn't bring himself to worry about her feelings. Though she made it quite apparent to him she was hurt. Fixing it, that was the real problem.


	8. Amnesty

Molly Hooper had an irritating habit of confusing Sherlock Holmes without doing much of anything. One of many case and points starts the morning after she slapped him. He had expected her to have gotten over what happened. Oh. How very wrong he had been.

Instead he found himself confronted by his older brother who passed him a torn up piece of paper. "Feelings are such troublesome things. Miss Hooper requested to leave last night and was gone by sixthirty-seven this morning via one of the cars. She also suggested that you be given this." Mycroft paused briefly as Sherlock tucked the paper in his pocket without glancing at what was written on it. "Mummy looked upset this morning while bidding her a farewell. I think she likes her more than she did Miss Adler. She had been more trouble than we needed. Like Moriarty."

Sherlock unconsciously tightened his grip of the paper in his pocket. He didn't say anything else, just turned back the way he came and headed up the stairs towards the west wing which led to the lab.

He let out a sigh as he took the paper out of his pocket and uncrumbled it. He smoothed it out, allowing the words to become much clear.

**_I didn't leave you with all the work. Not that you wouldn't have been able to finish it on your own. I finished the rest. You can rest easy knowing that you can do whatever you want for the remainder of your break._ **

**_\- MH_ **

Sherlock looked up then and saw all of it. She had done everything. From the poster board to the document that was to have all their conclusion within it. He walked over to it however and looked it over. Molly wasn't stupid but she made a few mistakes at times. This time he found none. It was irritating not having anything to do.

Instead of messing with any of it,he just sat down on a stool with his hands folded under his chin,eyes closed thinking. He would have to do something about this issue with Molly sooner or later. Knowing John,his best friend it would have to be sooner.

It didn't exactly go as he planned in his head. He had sent her something but she never mentioned it during their time in Chemistry. She didn't even look his way,not even during their presentation which went perfectly. She just sat there at their table looking straight ahead,as if she wasn't the slight bit annoyed by him.

When it came time to leave class Sherlock decided to try to talk to her. She had been gathering her things at the time and was just about to move away from him and scurry out the door. "Did you get what I sent you?"

She shifted slightly out of surprise while slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Why does it matter?" She said. A few people had stopped to stare at them. None knew that they were currently very tense. It was more out of intrigue that they were speaking inside the classroom without an assignment being the topic of choice. It was about a gift. One that Molly seemingly was rejecting.

Scandalous.

Molly averted her eyes from their gazes and glares.

"It doesn't,I was just curious." He muttered as he got to his feet and strode away.

Molly looked at him for the first time since she left him standing at the Holmes Mansion after she slapped him. She shook her head at him as she walked out too. He wasn't making this easy.

The second instance happened during what would have been a break for lunch. If it were normal circumstances and everything was okay, Molly would have joined John and Sherlock at their table outside. However she had chose not to. Instead retreating inside in the library to work on a term paper.

John Watson had been worried when he found out that Molly had been back on campus much longer than anyone else for break. He had automatically knew that Sherlock had done something but he wasn't willing to share what it was.

It was irritating having to guess. He had tried talking to Molly about it but she too wasn't willing to indulge him in the events. She did give a little more than Sherlock however during an afternoon walk around campus.

"It's nothing major John. I just felt a little out of my place with the Holmes. That was bound to happen,I suppose. I'm more comfortable around your family. It was too much for me." It had sounded like something that would cause a problem for Molly but he still felt there was something more. John didn't want to push her into telling him anything so he accepted the answer and they settled into a discuss about his upcoming departure for the army training in Afghanistan in a month in a half.

There were times like these when their blatant age difference became more apparent. It wasn't too much trouble but the fact that Molly would basically be on her own from then on was something that worried him.

"You have to stop worrying so much John Watson. I'll be fine." She giggled as he pulled her into his side embracing her slightly.

Sherlock happened to have a few of his admirers keep an eye out on his chemistry partner's whereabouts. It didn't take much but a smile and a compliment to get them to do that. Within a day he had found her secluded area in the library where she had taken refuge.

She had been here a lot more than lunch breaks he noticed as he slowed down,he decided to peer around the shelf her table was past. He was surprised to see her hunched behind a tower of books. Most about Greece. She had one opened in front of her but she wasn't reading it. Insteaded she was sleeping.

She held a pen loosely in her right hand for notes he assumed by the pages that were spread across the table. Her hair was down for a change and spilled all over the desk,almost blending in with the color of the table.

Sherlock sighed as he set the cup of coffee he had brought with him,for her ironically enough and slowly took the pen out of her fingers as well as grabbing a piece of paper. She was the one being difficult by sleeping. He didn't consider himself rude nor did he want to make matters worse by scaring her by shaking her from her sleep. Instead,he began writing his own note.

It took him a moment to come up with what to write down but eventually found something and began writing at a furious pace. Once he was done he set the pen down in front of her open hand so it would appear it slipped from her hand and set the coffee on top of the note in a spot where she would see it. Then he straightened back up and walked away.

Molly woke up precisely eight minutes after Sherlock had left. The smell of the coffee had woken her up. She slowly came to her senses and blinked her eyes open and they landed directly on the styrofoam cup of coffee. She didn't touch it yet.

She slowly sat up and worked out any knots in her neck and shoulders before reaching over for it. She saw the night but didn't bother reading it until she took a sip of the beverage. It was different than your normal cup of Joe. It tasted like peppermint and vanilla. An odd combination but delicious all the same.

She reached for the paper then and took another tentative sip of the drink before she began reading the note. In Sherlock's elegant script was a pretty long note.

**_It's not tea but you tend to like odd things. I'm sure you'll like the christmasy drink. I planned to talk to you but seeing as you keep finding a way to get out of it, I'll do as you ask._ **

**_I do think you should open the box though. It's not an apology gift. I thoroughly feel you will find some use to it. That's all really._ **

**_I would think a bed is much comfortable for nap, I am wrong on many occasions when it comes to you however. I could be wrong ...again. You should find some time to rest. It won't do you any good to collapse one day._ **

**_I'm not giving up on talking to you. Not because I needthe nor want to, John is a very assertive person._ **

**_\- SH_ **

Molly shook her head as she got up and began to put her books away. She had gotten the majority of the things she needed for her paper during this visit to the library. She could find the rest on the net.

By the time she was done putting the books away and getting her things together she was faced with a bit of a problem. It was raining. It wasn't too bad but she had a horrible immune system. She sighed,pulling her coat closer on her and began her trek to her building.

Three more days went by but Sherlock hadn't heard a peep from Molly. Not because they weren't speaking but because she hadn't shown up to class and during lunches John was gone too. It was strange.

The afternoon of the fourth day once classes were over with Sherlock decided to go pay Molly visit in her dorm. He wasn't worried,no he didn't do that. That would mean he actually gave a damn about Molly. He was refusing to admit that. Instead he had come to the realization that they had to do labs together and she was making his gpa slip. That won't do.

When he finally managed to let the advisor in the building to let him up to see Molly he was more than a little annoyed. He huffed as he knocked on her room door and waited as he heard some pretty hard footsteps before the door swung open. There stood John Watson looking a bit shocked at seeing his best friend here.

"Sherlock."

"John,I need to talk to Molly."

"Sorry. She's resting at the moment and also..." Before John could finish his statement Sherlock brushed past him and into the room. Sherlock was about to approach the bed with a loud sneeze and a series of coughs sounded from the sheets depths. "...sick." John finished with a sigh. He closed the door as he navigated his way around Sherlock who was stuck in his spot, thinking.

"I'll just have to endure it." Sherlock mumbled as he sat down in a chair that was a little distance from the convulsing figure in the bed who kept sneezing. He sighed as he watched John hand Molly a boxof nearly empty tissues and then he said something quietly to her. Molly sat up then and looked over at him as she clutched her head. She had sat up too quickly.

"Sherlock,what are you doing here?"

"Are we on speaking terms now?" He crossed his arms as he stared at her,inspecting her current state. She looked horrible of course but she didn't seem angry currently. Good.

"I'm sick Sherlock. What do you want?"

"To talk,obviously."

"Obviously." Molly spoke hoarsely. He just noticed thd change in her voice. Sore throat most likely.

He frowned at her before looking at John who seemed to be standing guard near her. "John what are you doing here?" He asked,as he remembered that he was here.

"Taking care of my friend." He rolled his eyes at Sherlock. Sherlock could feel the hostility creeping up in the room. "Well would you mind giving me and your friend a minute. It really won't take that long. I just want to talk to Molly."

"I need more tissues,John. It's fine." She gestured for him to go and he looked between the two of them before sighing. He would never understand the two of them and their thing. He didn't even know what to call it.

"Fine. I'll be back in ten minutes. If I hear any shouting when I come back I'll start swinging." He looked at Sherlock then. Then he looked at Molly who gave him a small nod and then he grabbed his coat and made his way out.

Once John was out of the room Molly laid back down and snuggled back under the warmth of her covers. Sherlock moved the chair he was sitting so that he was significantly closer to her and he opened his mouth to speak only to see Molly had shut her eyes. "You're not falling asleep again. I did come here to talk to you."

"And I'm listening. I don't have to stare at you for that." She sniffled.

"Fine. You were avoiding me."

"No shit,Sherlock."

"Why?" He grumbled.

"Why do you think?"

"You were upset the last time I saw you so I'm gonna have to say that's why."

"We have a winner lady and gentlemen. I thought you didn't state the obvious."

"It was a requirement this time. Why are you so upset with me? I didn't do anything." He sounded desperate to Molly. She slowly opened her eyes and looked him in the eye.

"You're being idiotic right now. I think I made it quite clear why I don't want to talk or be around you anymore."

"I insult everyone Molly,it's silly to take offense to that."

"That wasn't all."

"Then what was it,Molly?" He was getting angry. His voice had raised an octave and it was making her head spin. She reached out and clutched her head. He looked apologetic upon seeing her flinch.

"You put me in danger. That guy could have killed me."

"He didn't."

"I'm aware of that. That doesn't make it better. You're a danger to be around. I've heard enough recollections from John. I'd rather not be associated with someone who could cause me to get killed."

"Anyone can cause you to be killed. People do stupid things."

She closed her eyes again. "I know." Her voice broke off as she spoke. Sherlock wasn't sure if she was getting emotional or it was because she was sick. Either way he wasn't sure how to handle this. "Was he your friend? The way he talked,he made it seem like you were quite familiar."

"Yes. I know him. I wouldn't call us friends. More like rivals. He's not a nice person to be associated with."

"And you are?" She turned over and ducked her head under the cover. She was cold.

"In comparison,yes. What are you doing?"

Molly muttered something but he couldn't tell what it was because of the fabric. "Pardon?"

She said it again and he still couldn't understand her so he stood up and pulled the cover back. "You are aware this could be seen as quite scandalous,Sherlock?" She asked as shs turned over and crossed her arms,now on her back. She was completely uncovered.

"I don't really care."

"You don't say. Can I have my covers back? I'm sick and I'm freezing."

Sherlock had forgotten slightly about that last bit. She was sick. He was more focused on the conversation they were having at the time. He covered her up again,tucking her into the sheets so that only her head peeked out. Molly gave him a strange look.

"I am sorry I put you in harms way. Maybe if you stay close next time we can avoid that."

"Next time?"

"Yes. I never said I didn't like having you around." He tucked his hands in his pockets. He shifted from one side to the other.

"You're not that horrible either." She let a smile form on her lips.

"You're confusing,Molly Hooper."

"Ah. So I do still have that effect on you. Lovely,that's nice to know."

John decided to come in at that moment. He looked between the two of them as he approached the bed. "All's well,I hope?"

"Yeah. I wanna sleep now." Molly yawned as she shut her eyes.

"Don't really see why I have to leave." Sherlock mumbled as he nudged Molly over and plopped halfway on her bed. It wasn't that huge of a bed but there wasn't much room left over.

"Sherlock." Molly croaked as she turned her head and stared at him.

"Yes?"

"You're an idiot." John answered for her. "Get up before I have to be taking care of you too. Don't really want that."

Sherlock sighed as he slowly eased himself off the bed and stared at Molly. "Why do you have to sick? Your bed is too comfortable." He grumbled as he stood up,brushed himself off and bid the two farewell.

He was a weird one,Molly couldn't help thinking as she closed her eyes in hope of sleeping peacefully for the rest of the night.


	9. Farewell Holmes & Watson

Molly wasn't exactly one for goodbyes. She hadn't ever had the pleasure of doing it face to face before. It was personal and scary to the general consensus but these weren't normal circumstances. These were her friends. Well, at least one was. The other's preference on their status as friends or not was still a grey area.

She hadn't exactly felt like it would be that pleasurable. Saying goodbye two people who in their own ways had changed you and your life. It was a bit easier with John, seeing as she had known him for a great while. Significantly longer than his counterpart; Sherlock Holmes.

The future pathologist had been informed months ago of her friend's upcoming departure for the army. He, like her had a plan for himself and it was his turn to begin his. They had taken a walk the previous day as had become a bit of a habit of theirs and she hugged him. She may have teared up a bit but that was okay, John had said so.

It was also during their final time together on the grounds of the academy that John informed him that he wasn't the only one going. Sherlock too was going somewhere. He was going abroad to study and work on his new life. He wouldn't let on exactly what that was but Molly had an idea.

For everything that Sherlock hadn't shared Molly had figured out certain aspects. He wasn't overly cautious when under her gaze. He, she knew didn't think much of any of the things she might figure out. She never discussed it with him either. There was an understanding there however.

A portion of that understanding came to late a few days after their reconciliation over the dilemma at the Holmes mansion. Sherlock had managed to not so eloquently smuggled a few things for a chemistry assignment they HAD to do by the following day into her dormitory.

_"Sherlock you can't bring chemicals into my room. It's against the ..." He cut her off quickly as he pushed a few of her things out of the way on her small desk. He sighed, as he realized that only one of them was going to be able to work at the time. Very irritating._

_"Rules, Molly I'm aware of that. It's never stopped me from doing it in my own room. Besides, I don't follow them. More than anything they interfere with my discoveries." Discoveries. Right, John had mentioned Sherlock's insane methods he called experiments. Molly wrinkled her nose at the thought of the rat project she was notified about the previous day._

_"What's that?" Sherlock raised his eyebrow at two large boxes sitting near the foot of Molly's bed. He had almost tripped over them when he was hurrying over to the desk._

_Molly followed his gaze and stiffened up momentarily, her mouth formed a thin line into a grimace. "Nothing. What's the project again? I was half asleep when you mentioned it the other day." She brushed it off._

_Sherlock watched as her fingers constantly moved. She was fidgety. It was one of this tell tale signs he learned she did when she was uneasy about something and wanted to by pass it. If he was a normal guy he probably would have shrugged it off but this was Sherlock Holmes._

_He stood from the chair he had sat down in the desk while rearranging the items on the old table that had been makeshifted into her desk and squatted down in front of the boxes which were a couple inches away from the girl. He tilted his head as he observed the boxes. They weren't anything special from the outside, but the inside was significant he knew. He peered from the side at Molly who had got up and moved over to the desk to begin their work he supposed. He didn't see much of a change in her disposition. She had relaxed a bit now that she was focused on other things._

_He turned back to the boxes and lifted the lid of the first one. It had already been cut open. He sat down next to the boxes as he peered inside. He frowned, looked at Molly and then went back to the box. He reached inside and grabbed one of the envelopes despite the fact he knew what they were. He just was confused as to why Molly had been sent them. Did something happen he didn't know about?_

_He took out the slip of paper and read it briefly before tossing it. His frown deepened as he read a few more. He had begun to get irritated by the words scribbled in each envelope. Each message was written in a different color, ink, and handwriting but nearly all said the same. Molly was a problem or so they said._

_Sherlock tossed the ones he read back in the box and shut they lid as he stood. He stacked the other box on top of the other and lifted them in his arms. Molly had turned to see what he was doing when she heard the ruckus he was making. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"_

_"I'll be just a moment. Continue working, please." He stated before making his way out of her room. Molly sat there for a moment before walking over to the window which had a view of the side of the building and some of the walkway that led to the main part of campus._

_It didn't take long before she could see him gliding along the path. She figured he was going to just dump them in the trash. However, he ducked under the small clearing by a couple sets of shrubbery and trees and continued going. She had never been back there but from what she knew that's where the incinerator was. Molly unconsciously smiled before going back over to the desk to start working again._

_She hadn't been the only one who had seen that either by the next day, many of the people whom she knew had sent her those threatening messages had begun to shrink back from her but still shot her glares of hatred over her closeness to attractive boy._

They had an understanding you see. As long as she didn't mention any bad things she may deem irritating about him, that also seemed dangerous he continued to make sure the admirers of his stayed far far away.

It was nice, she thought as she made her way down to the entrance of the grounds where many students were budding their own farewells to their friends. Molly had spoken when John earlier and given him a few things to take with him on his journey. Most of it was spare medical supplies she felt he may need to use. She hadn't been all that sure what else he could need. That went the same for the gift she gave John to give Sherlock when the two departed.

She had had enough on a plate just knowing that she had the courage to give him anything let alone meet him to tell him anything. The latter was something she hadn't been sure about doing. What could you say to Sherlock Holmes and make it not overly sentimental? He didn't do sentiment. She knew that.

That was why giving him her gesture of kindness (gift) in person would have been a bad idea.

Sherlock hadn't necessarily expected her to come say goodbye to him. He didn't feel like it was needed really. They hadn't had anything extraordinarily going on over the past months. He had bring himself care a bit of her opinion of him, though.

He navigated his way to her instead of making her trek through the large group of people. She had always seemed quite uncomfortable around people, now had really been no different.

She had changed since their brief passing in the cafeteria for the achievements program. She now wore a pair of jeans, white in cherries and a cream tank top under it with her customary flats. She had never really changed her style of clothing ever. Even though he felt her taste was dreadful it was also not incredibly unpleasant.

Molly smiled slightly as she stared at Sherlock as he stopped in front of her. It felt a bit more easy now that she could get it over with. That's not to say she wanted him to go. She just didn't want to irritate him by prolonging it too much. "You're leaving too then." She spoke quitely as she ran her hand up and down her left arm which she had at her side.

"Molly..." He warned her, knowing where she was already headed in her thoughts. She look past him momentarily as she thought. "Well...I suppose I should tell you to take care of yourself. I didn't have to fix you up as much as John but still don't really wanna read about you getting yourself banged up too bad."

"Last time I checked you hold the record of most nearly fatal instances. I wouldn't worry too much about me."

"Who said I was worried? I'm not." She was, he smirked at her knowing that too. "Doesn't matter anyway. I gave John something for you. You don't have to accept it if you don't want you to. I wasn't really sure where you were going but I made it and it wasn't quite my taste. So yeah, use it if you like." She shrugged, feeling more awkward by the second.

Sherlock seemed to liven up at the mention of a gift. He detested gifts. He didn't understand them but he was curious about what she thought to give him.

A whistle blew near the gate signalling that all that were leaving had to get a move on. Molly tucked her hands in her pockets and moved backward knowing this was where they were supposed to go their separate ways. Sherlock hadn't moved yet though. He was staring at her though.

Molly wasn't sure whether she should move or not. People were returning back to the grounds. The ones that were staying that is. Molly decided that she should probably go back when Sherlock reached out and pulled her towards him. She gasped and looked at him in the eyes as he smiled. Then he pressed his lips against her forehead. It almost felt like it lingered after he pulled back. "Thank you, Molly."

He had mumbled before turning and dashing off to John who Molly could vaguely remember calling him before he was left behind.

They hadn't said goodbye. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or whether she would she him again. She wouldn't mind seeing him again, she knew. She just smiled, looked down and turned around walking back towards her dormitory. Goodbyes weren't really Sherlock's things either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a time-skip happens next. I hope you enjoy. :)


	10. Hello (The Reunion)

Molly Hooper was a nervous wreck. This wasn't too uncommon as of late. It was just much more intense with what she was dealing with. Her last examination before she would be a certified pathologist in all of England. Most importantly in London where she began living on her own three and a half years ago.

It had been a long while since her years at Chapel Hill Academy with her friends. She had thought about them often but never heard much from them. John had sent few letters when he deemed it necessary. He had managed to call her for her birthday's. He always mentioned how important they were even if she wasn't as old as either of the guys were. She was still important to John Watson. Sherlock Holmes hadn't even tried, not even once to contact her.

That was okay, she often found herself thinking more than once when she happened to hear the whispers about a brilliant man who despite his age had been known to help the inspectors at Scotland Yard. She had known then, that it was him. No one else seemed quite like him. It hadn't bothered her that he had been there in London and hadn't made any move to acknlowedge the fact that she too had taken up residency here.

He might not have been aware, she concluded. She had begun to stop dewelling on the fact that she had actually been on her own for years now. Her father passed on the year before and now it was just her. She had made herself stop worrying about the feelings of sadness from the loneliness brought her. It wouldn't do her any good. She promised to keep moving forward.

Her last examination was an autopsy report. She had dissected bodies numerous of times, this was just a bit of a doosy. Her professor had done his best to pick out a particularly difficult patient for Molly. She knew it was out of resentment for all the trouble she had put him through. She was the only female in the class and found many faults through his methods. Molly thought it was better to mention it rather than going along and getting false information. She enjoyed uncovering the facts.

Here she stood in the cold room where many other autopsies had been done before by other peers and professors during demonstrations. She was the last one in. She had on the scrubs that were customary for the students and a cardigan to warm her up. The sleeves had been rolled up because of the mess of blood and guts as she made her clean cuts along the body in her dissection.

Her auburn hair had been pulled back out of her face. It's length not nearly as long as it once had been. Still too long not to get in her way. She sighed for a brief moment as she went back over her notes. The initial dissection had already been done but there had been a few troubling things once she opened the woman up. Several organs had been severely cut out.

She hated thinking that someone intentionally did that to throw her off. Despite her intrigue with uncovering the cause of death through more cuts on a body she despised such violent acts when a heinous objective is mind. There were many cruel people out in the world.

Molly placed her clipboard down once again and grabbed her scalpel and went to use it again to cut away some more of the tissue that was in the way of the kidneys.

"You look different." She dropped her utensil out of shock. She didn't move to pick it up, yet. It had hit the ground with a loud clang. Why would he show up, now of all times? She sighed as she turned slightly as she saw his hand extending her fallen scalpel. She noticed he had the handle pointed towards her not the sharp blade. He did know a portion of common courtesy then. It was an old rule as well, she kept in mind.

_"Don't run with scissors. Don't point sharp objects at anyone when handing it to them. Point it the other way."_

Molly accepted it and turned back to her station to put it back in it's place before finally looking up at the intruder who she hadn't seen in quite a long while. Instead of paying any mind to the fact that he had startled her, she addressed his statement instead. "That is what people do, Sherlock. We change, we evolve."

He nodded briefly before looking Molly directly in the eyes. "I need your help with something."

Molly shook her head and sighed before going back to her mysterious case and cutting as she was supposed to. "You haven't changed. You can't expect me to just drop everything for you. You didn't even say hello. It has been almost six years, Sherlock."

He walked around the table and stared down at the woman before looking up at Molly. This was going to be much harder than he thought. "It was implied that when I approached you that I was greeting you. I was told that who I am wasn't a bad thing. There's no reason for me to change. You liked me well enough ..."

"We were teenagers. Practically kids." She interrupted quickly.

"Right. I would have visited sooner but it seemed unnecessary." He continued, he could tell he wasn't getting much of anywhere. Molly Hooper was as mysterious and as difficult as the day they first started speaking. It made him frown. He had already had taken the liberty of looking her over. "You've gotten better at hiding what you don't want other's to see."

"You've already figured out some. I'm sure. What do you need?" She slumped. It wasn't until she truly looked at him did she notice something familiar. He was wearing her gift. It took her a great bit of force not to smile too much. "I need your assistance. What?" He mumbled as he saw her staring at him strangely.

"You still have it and are using it." She nodded at him. He looked down and swallowed a bit as he tugged on the fabric around his neck. The blue scarf. "Well, I found use for it and it was nice. I did say thank you for it, remember?"

Oh. Right. She knew he wasn't talking about their farewell all that time again. It was later on that night when she had gotten back to her room and opened her gift that he had given her when they hadn't been talking. It was a cellular phone. An expensive one at that. She had found out that it had already been activated as she turned it on and found several texts from a contact already programmed under the name  _ **SH**_.

_I'm sure you'll find this useful. - SH_

_You still haven't opened it. - SH_

_Really, Molly? Are you that upset? - SH_

_Fine. Let me know when you see these. I didn't send them because of anything. Just wanted to make sure it was working. - SH_

_I think mum likes you quite a bit. She's texted me five times since your silent treatment started. Not answering them. Okay. - SH_

_Thank you. - SH_

"I remember. I was right about it though. It does suit you better. What do you need help with?"

"I prefer not to speak about it until we get there."

"I can't leave. I have to finish this. It's my last exam." She gestured to the body. Sherlock pursed his lips before grabbing the pen and clipboard as he spoke quickly. "Your professor doesn't like you. He chose a patient that seems difficult but in reality you're actually overthinking it again. It's quite simply really. The killer - there is one, mutilated the body after the initial slash to this woman's stomach which caused her to bleed out. Their objective was to retrieve her organs. More than likely to sell illegally in a black market for funds."

"You can't do that."

"Can't I though? No one has been around the lab for hours. Your professor seemed eager for me to help the poor girl who never stood a chance as he put it. Though, I believe as you are clearly distressed over this as cheating it was suggested by your professor. You'll get to redeem yourself later regardless." Sherlock drawled as he passed her the clipboard, now finished with his notations. He did leave her a few things to finish. They needed to move though quickly. Time was of the essence.

"Come along now." He called as he headed for the door. His coat billowing as he strode away. He waited at the door as Molly signed off on the paper after checking a few things. She tossed her gloves in the waste bin before rushing over to where he was standing. She grabbed her coat and slipped it on, grabbing her bag as he opened the door and they slipped out.

Unlike most Londoners who took a cab when going somewhere, Molly and Sherlock took a walk towards their destination. Molly hadn't been too sure about where they were headed until they grew closer to it. The park. She was confused over why that was but continued to follow her companion regardless. He had been silent apart from telling her a single warning as they stopped.

He turned so that he faced her and peered down at her. He didn't say anything at first. It wasn't until she started to shift from one side to the other out of discomfort that he realized he wasn't being normal - his normal. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Molly, I need you promise me something."

"What exactly?" He reached out for her shoulders, much like how he had during their departure those years ago and gave her a nice firm but gentle squeeze. "Whatever happens today has nothing to do with me or you. It has something to do with the thing I'm working on. Don't think anything of it, got it?"

"Whatever ridiculous thing you do I shouldn't think anything of it. Got it." She nodded. He was being weird but she could understand why he was doing this. He was trying to do that thing he did before. Protecting her without actually calling it that. She was curious as to what he had been up to and what was going on now. It had to be a case, she knew.

Sherlock took his hands away and gestured for her to follow him over to an area that had been taped around with the yellow caution tape. She did warily. It was obvious it was a crime scene. Most likely a murder scene. There was reddish brown caked in the mud which had gotten worse by the rain of the morning. There wasn't much there however. There looked to have pushed down area imprinting where the body had been.

"What do you want me to do? There really isn't anything here to inspect." Molly stuffed her hands in her coat as the wind picked up.

"Look closer." He encouraged.

Molly pursed her mouth and looked at Sherlock first before looking back at the ground. There were two imprints together. One half of one and two sets of legs. A fist fight? Or maybe a weapon was involved. "There were two people fighting. I'm guessing only one body was found. It doesn't look like enough blood for two. You know that already, don't you?"

"Yes."

Molly wanted to punch him. Why was he being stupid? Why was she even here? This was ridiculous. "Why do you need me restate things you clearly already have observed yourself?"

"I like having a second set of eyes."

"So, I'm your John replacement. Lovely."

Sherlock had been surveying the area surrounding them. He had been warned of the possibility of someone trying to come back to the scene. There was something still here that was wanted. He had seen two people in his peripheral hiding near the trees. They were watching them.

This was why he set up the guise of a couple appearing for a stroll and finding the crime scene. He had already had a few of his connection's spread that around. He would have to put it to work soon. He had thought about telling his "girlfriend" about this but decided it was better if she was surprised by the following events.

He reached out and grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. A gasp elicited from her lips before he touched her cheek with two of his fingers. It was a soft not all the way there caress. He kept his eyes on her and gave her a stern glare before he bent down just a bit. He looked from her reaction to the lurking duo and back. He was actually going to have to do this.

"Sherlock. What are you-?" He ignored her as he pressed his lips to hers quickly. She hadn't spoken extremely loud but there was a chance that the people had heard her. That could raise a problem. He felt her stiffen in his hold for a couple moments as he grabbed the hem of her coat and pushed her closer to him at the same time intensifying their lip lock.

Molly had been surprised but the warning he had told her earlier had been enough for her to remember that this was an act and she would need to play along for this to work. She kissed him back tentatively and closed her eyes so that she could bring herself to focus.

One hand reached up and took hold of Molly's ribbon which had been holding her hair back and he pulled it with one flick of his wrist. He tucked his fingers in her locks as it fell. He tried to focus on his dual role as detective and supposed boyfriend to the young woman he was with but he was getting distracted. By Molly no less.

That wasn't exactly new information but he had been vigilant about trying to keep his notions about her at bay. It wasn't working that great. It also didn't help that he didn't half ass anything. He bit down carefully on Molly's bottom lip resulting in a smile sound of enjoyment out of her before moving a little further and enticing her into a battle of tongues between the two of them. He felt her grip the lapel of his coat within seconds and her other hand's fingers began a soothing gesture within the curls of his hair. It was all very gratifying in a way.

It was nearly all the build up compiled into one intense moment. It wasn't supposed to be real however, it was for show. Sherlock had to remind himself of that. As he slowed down and journeyed out to the surface of caressing her lips softly.

One of his eyes opened and he saw that they had been safe until that moment. The shorter of the two made a gesture to the other clearly shouting and pointing at Sherlock. He cursed as he pulled back and grabbed Molly's hand and took off in the opposite direction into which they came.

"Sherlock...what was that...I really don't get this. I'm gonna need you not to do that." She finally stated as she was pulled to a halt behind a set of trees that were better at concealing whom they were. Sherlock and Molly was pushed up against each other again. He was peering alongside the tree - being a look out for their chasers.

"Which part? The kissing or the running?" He mumbled as he relax upon not seeing any one of the two they had run from. They had gotten far. He returned his gaze to the woman who's heart he could feel beating against his.

"Possibly both. You need to explain before we make one more move." She stated firmly as she stared at him.

Sherlock licked his lips unconsciously as he answered her. "I'm working a case and I needed a cover to gain more access to the scene despite the fact that no one is guarding it. I came up with the cover of a couple taking a bit of the stroll in the park while unknowingly coming across the scene. You were the closest option I had to be my companion and it only seemed reasonable really. Is there a problem?"

Molly was smiling at him as she shook her head. He was insane but it was nice to see him. "I guess not."

"Good. Was that strawberry flavored lipstick?" He asked as a mere afterthought but Molly could see he was curious.

Molly looked like a deer caught in headlight. "Sorry. I completely forgot I had it on."

"Why do you have it on? You're not dating anyone currently. You've only dated a few men in the past six years."

"It makes me feel pretty." She giggled as Sherlock pushed back from her and extended his arm to her. Molly straightened herself out before slipping her arm through his quickly and they set off again. This time for her flat see realized.

"You want to come in?" She asked once they were there standing outside her building. Sherlock shook his head. "I think I've had my daily dose of Molly." He smirked as she rolled her eyes at him. She fought back the heat that she could feel rising towards her cheeks as she remembered their heated liplock. That had been more than she expected. Not that she thought he would ever do that for real.

"Okay. You should keep in touch. Don't make it another six years." She grumbled as she fished her keys out her bag.

"Not to worry." He gave her a wink before looking like he was about to leave but then he turned back around and grabbed her by the elbow. He made sure to have her full attention. "I'll try not to forget this next time. Hello, Molly Hooper."

 


	11. Hamish & Hooper (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one and the next are a bit focused on the Jolly friendship side of this universe, with a bit of Sherlock trying to insert himself into matters. I hope you like it. :)

A month and a half passed and Molly and Sherlock had spent a few moments together. It was always in public and never for more than fifteen minutes - very odd in Molly's opinion but she didn't mind all that much. They usually didn't do much of talking unless it was about a body in the morgue where Molly had started working a few weeks ago or a rare moment when Molly coasced Sherlock into deducing people during a coffee break when he wished to go somewhere besides the cafeteria of the hospital.

St. Bartholomew Hospital served as her home away from home lately. She often spent nights there cutting up cadavers of the dead and Molly was happy. How she got the job was still confusing to her. She was the only female pathologist there and often she would be left with the graveyard shift. It was almost like a punishment in itself she realized

On the bright side she now had a place of employment. It felt like medical school all over again. However, she waved it away as nothing to get upset over.

Some things just never change. Then again some things did.

John Watson had been able to come home again for a short while. He had told Sherlock during a phone call that he was able to make that he would get to decide whether to go on for another tour within the next month. However, he was indecisive about it. It had been hard for him.

Sherlock had deduced that by his friend's tone during the short conversation but didn't think it was best to speak on it. He would later once he saw him. There had been a problem during their few correspondings through letters he noticed. John had not only changed in his attitude but he also stopped mentioning their friend; Molly Hooper.

Yes. Sherlock had somewhat come to terms with his acquaintanceship with the auburn haired woman. He was still trying to work on his thoughts on why he didn't feel inclined to push her away as much as he did in the past but that wasn't exactly new. That was just the ongoing workings of his mind.

Molly had perked up at the news the day that Sherlock Holmes stopped by the morgue and mentioned that John would be arriving home later on in the week. She had missed him, Sherlock could tell. It almost made him want to smile at her because of how she reacted to the reunion that would take place in the park near the hospital..

"Molly." Sherlock started as he stood next to the bench where she was sitting reading a medical journal by one of the few acquitances she made at the beginning of her[medical education](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8097731/11/A-Study-In-Chemistry). A woman by the name Eden Wethersfield. She was a neurologist and had written an article in the journal about a new study she had done. It was fascinating to read - for Molly. "Hmm?" She looked up briefly to let him know she had his attention before returning back to the pages she had printed out. There were twenty total and she was on the fifth.

"Have you talked to John lately?"

"I haven't received anything from him since June, so no. Is there a problem?" She looked up at him immediately, worry itched into her face. Sherlock kept a very neutral expression as always and just turned away as he noticed footsteps coming closer.

Molly thought he was dismissing her question and frowned as he stayed turned away from her. She wondered if he knew something she didn't. Had he talked to John? She was going to ask when another voice broke through the silence. "Hey. It was nice of you to come. You could have been on a case."

"John?" Molly asked quietly from her seat on the bench. She had stuffed her pages in the pocket of her coat. She had folded it hurriedly and got to her feet.

He looked around Sherlock who had been in the way and gave her a smile. It wasn't real. He didn't know she was coming. He wanted to talk with Sherlock, obviously. "Molly." He spoke hesitantly. "Hi."

"You look good. Well...um...I need to get back to work. I just came out for a moment. Welcome back...I guess." She wouldn't look at him. Sherlock was watching the both of them with confusion. John seemed uneasy and Molly was playing off that with awkwardness. She did nothing to hide her disappointment that John had seemed to not exactly seem happy to see her. Why was that? From what he knew John had stopped corresponding with her. There was a problem.

Sherlock felt he should say something as he noticed Molly's inner debate reflected on her person. Her body was angled so that it looked like she was going to leave but she seemed rooted to that spot. She was looking down and away from both of them. It was making Sherlock uncomfortable. "You have ten minutes."

Molly looked up and over to Sherlock and so did John at the sudden statement from the usually quiet detective. "Yeah. Well I got the graveyard shift and there are about five bodies I have on my list. I'd rather cut my break earlier. So. See you later." She moved quickly away from them without another thought.

"You know her schedule."

"You just dismissed her, John." Sherlock said, ignoring his friend's inquiry.

"What? No I didn't."

"John. I may not be great with people but I've gotten accustomed to how Molly reacts to a few things. She seemed hurt."

"How do you know so much about her?"

He could ask that. It was a reasonable thing to ask after the response he gave. "I kept tabs on Molly while I was out of England regardless of where I was. I am still curious about her and I wanted to oversee that she was okay. Nothing more than that. I came back in contact with her a few weeks ago when I needed her assistance on another case and I needed a woman. It's simple really.

What's not so simple is your attitude. Not just to her, that was something I was wondering about way before your dismissal right there. You were almost like a serial killer forgetting a step in his method of kill. Every time you wrote to me you would tell me something about Molly whether that be some good news that I had already found out myself due to my continous track of her or whatever. You also stopped sending her letters. That I found out on my own a couple minutes before you came. What's the problem, John?"

"There isn't one. Maybe I forgot about her."

"Impossible." Sherlock cut him off quickly. "You and Molly were a bit of a package deal before. You had a special bond that I don't understand but you don't just forget that." Sherlock hated how emotional his voice was sounding. He was just in utter disbelief over all this. It didn't make the slightest bit of sense.

John eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment as he thought over something. Sherlock took the time while he waited to text someone. He placed his phone back in his pocket as John looked back at him.

Ah. There the man was. The one that Sherlock had been waiting to appear. From the moment the change in the letters and the army doctor's voice during their minimal phone calls he had been eager to see this man. He was different from the facade that had been on display the moment John approached him. This man was struggling. This man might be broken but if anything he knew that broken things can be mended if not fixed. That would be Sherlock Holmes' goal for however long it took.

Sherlock kept quiet as he waited for his friend to speak. The hoarseness of John's voice nearly took him off guard as he stumbled over to the bench and sat down. Sherlock decided to keep standing, he also took out one of his cigarettes and lit it up. "She was happy. Molly that is. I didn't want to mess things up for her because I was in hell. They don't prepare you for everything, Sherlock. I didn't want her to have to worry about me."

"She would even if you didn't give her a reason to. However you John H. Watson are very wrong about something in particular. Molly Hooper was far from happy."

"What do you mean?"

Sherlock blow out a puff of smoke and then he began recounting all that he had uncovered that Molly wasn't aware he knew. She had become good at hiding things yes, but she wasn't as great as he was. That was her most fatal mistake.

Molly Hooper arrived back into her flat at precisely 4:50 am and Sherlock had sat there for the past three hours waiting for her in the dark. He had took time after letting himself in by much illegal measures to have a look around her living quarters. There wasn't much but it told enough. She lived alone, liked to commemorate her family that she had - that she lost on the mantel in the front room where a fireplace sat. A few logs of firewood sat near it but it hadn't been used yet. That made him realize she either enjoyed the cold or didn't know how to use it yet.

Then there was her kitchen which was small compared to most people's. A electronic stove took most of the space with a small sink and three cabinets that were mostly bare. A tiny fridge was tucked near the window in and look almost brand new. Except it had been scrubbed. That's what she liked to do on her day off he imagined; clean.

He grew wary over whether he should go through the rest of her compact home but found himself doing it regardless. It was like his body was on autopilot and didn't want to go off. He went through the small bathroom which was tiled and then the only bedroom that was hers. There wasn't much there but a small table full of notes, bills and books on several different medical courses. He had found something that caused a bit of an alert to go off in his head in the drawer that held her linens. A list of things to do before (as it were titled) IT got me. What was it, he wondered and why did IT want her? Before he dwelled much on that he shut the drawer with the page still very much in his possession and plopped down on her bed. He had taken off his gloves and scarf earlier on and they were stowed away in his pocket. His legs actually fit on his bed which surprised him. It was a king sized bed, he realized.

Then his eyes went back to the page. There were normal things people put on a bucket list then there were things that were not so common like "go swimming with sharks" (not dolphins) and "name my own star after someone special" and one particular that made him blush for a moment "get Sherlock laid" and in parenthesis (last resort only, if he ever comes back). That made him roll his eyes. It had been awhile since she had written this. Possibly a year old?

He folded it back into the small square it had been in before shutting his eyes to think on the current situation with his two friends and their problem. From the discussion he had with John he knew it was a mere misunderstanding. It should be rather simple to fix. Molly Hooper was a stubborn woman however. He would need to tell her things that he didn't wish to so that she would cooperate. Or maybe he wouldn't. She had been okay the last few weeks with their short break encounters. He enjoyed his small doses of Molly which he had come to call them.

The sound of the lock clicking as Molly entered her home shook Sherlock from his thoughts and he straightened up as much as he could from his position on her bed. His back sat up straight against the wall. He hands lay in his laps as he waited.

Molly made a short detour from the front room, dropped her keys on the kitchen counter then a little shuffle as she took off her jacket and she went to the bathroom. Nearly four minutes there before she opened the door of her room and shrieked. "Sherlock!" She screamed as she clutched at her heart and tried to catch her breath.

Sherlock smirked at her. "Molly, are you okay?"

"Yes apart from being scared to death. I am perfectly fine. What are you doing in my bed in my room in my house? How did you get in my house?"

"Your locks are too simple. Let's leave it at that shall we. Besides you aren't dead, you're quite alive by the racing of your pulse and the dilation of your eyes due to shock more than anything else."

"You...you broke into my house." She ignored his deduction of her, used to that after their second encounter when he had commented on her weight and she had wanted to slap him. He was rude.

"Okay. Yes. I did unlatch the lock on your door to gain access to the inner workings of your flat. Can we move on please? I came here to talk to you."

"Why?"

"You have a problem."

"I'm sorry ...what problem are you talking of?"

"Oh right you have a lot of those don't you." He hummed before noticing the glare she was shooting him. He said the wrong thing. "There are two specifically that I wish to speak of with you. The first being most important. Come sit."

"I'm going to change first. Close your eyes." She stated as she walked over to her drawers and began rummaging through them. Sherlock sighed before doing as she said. He continued to speak. "I wanna know how you met. You and John."

"Why?" Molly's muffled voice asked as she switched shirts from a blouse to a college shirt she came to like wearing due to it's comfiness.

"I don't know the story. I'd like to know."

"Why?" She asked again a bit more clearly as she went to put on a pair of her flannel pajama pants.

"I would like to understand the two of you and your story. It's not some big secret is it?" Sherlock opened one eye and saw that she was thankfully fully clothed.

"No. Definitely not that." She said quietly as she tossed her clothes she had taken off into a small bin.

"Tell me." Sherlock demanded quietly as Molly came and sat down next to him. They were quite close together on the bed but neither mentioned anything about that. Molly had taken her hair down from the side plait was in and slowly began to comb it out with her hands as Sherlock watched her, waiting for her to start.

"Okay. Well we met during my freshmen year..."

_"Hooper, here comes your first patients. Go into room #3 and wait. There has been a bit of a scuffle so prepare for the sight of blood, and be ready to do stitches. I'll try to give you the more normal of the two since it's your first experience this week. You haven't had to work with anything like this but I have faith in your abilities. Go on."_

_Molly accepted the clipboard that her supervisor, Anne gave her before rushing down the hall to the set of rooms. Room 3 was on the right all the way to the end. She stepped through the door and stand against the counter as she waited. The forms on the clipboard already had information on the patient that was about to come in but she hadn't looked at it yet. Nerves were running rapidly through her veins._

_It made it hard for her to stay still. She stood there for a couple more minutes before another nurse came in guiding a man who seemed to be oozing blood inside and onto the operating table. Molly's inner doctor (err...future medical student) had went to work on looking at his injuries and figuring out exactly what she needed to do. The nurse stayed nearby._

_"Molly." The nurse spoke and gestured at the boy who was sitting there quickly. Oh. Right. She scrambled over to the boy and looked down at her clipboard and saw where his name was. "Hamish?" She questioned._

_"I suppose that's a part of my name." He chuckled and reached a hand out for the clipboard. Molly looked over at the nurse and she just smiled and nodded before Molly let him see the pages. "Oh. My names are mixed up." He picked up the pen that was trapped inside the clip and corrected the mistake and then handed it back to her._

_"John Watson. Sorry, it's my first day. So...um...how'd you get so messed up?"_

_"Defending a friend. He is a difficult person to deal with, so I come here a lot." The nurse pushed the tray towards Molly and she put the clipboard down as she slipped on a pair of gloves and decided that his shoulder wound probably needed the most immediate attention. "How long have you been volunteering here, Hooper?"_

_"I'm gonna need you to take off your shirt." She paused and waited for him to move before answering his question. She wasn't obligated to do so but it wasn't anything too personal. "Two weeks." Molly pretended not to look at John's physique as she began wiping away the blood that was surrounding the slash mark where John had gotten stabbed. What kind of friend let's someone get marked up like this?_

_"Do you like it here?" Molly nodded as the nurse handed her the syringe and she began work on sewing up his shoulder. It wasn't too bad after all. It just looked quite ugly._

_"Yeah. It's not so bad. A bit different than what I'll actually be getting into but I gotta start somewhere, I suppose." Molly covered his shoulder with a gauze bandage and then walked in front of him to begin on the cut that went from his eyelid to a portion of his forehead. She began cleaning that. John was about to say something but Molly had to ask him, as his doctor. "Does your head hurt?"_

_"Not at all. What do you want to do?" John shut his eyes as per instruction by Molly as she began to work on the cut there. There was a bit of coloring on his cheeks where he had been hit a bit hard but there wasn't much left but the cut she was working on._

_"A pathologist."_

_"I would have never guessed. You don't really look like the type." He winced as the needle went through the tear quite ruthlessly. "Sorry." She mumbled as she went through the last bit quickly._

_"I didn't think pathologist looked any certain way. Done." She stated as she stepped back and pulled off her gloves and walked back over to her clipboard. John had went ahead and put his shirt back on carefully. His shoulder did bother him a bit but that wasn't anything new. "I'd ice your cheek if I were you." Molly said as she wrote down a few notations on his paperwork before turning to look at him._

_"I will. Thank you for patching me up, Molly." John smiled as he made his way towards the door._

_"Try not to make it a habit in getting yourself beat up, John."_

_He chuckled. "I'll try. That could be hard."_

_Then he made his exit, leaving a very amused Molly Hooper. The nurse gave her a knowing look before telling her how not nervous she looked and that she had done a great job. The sound of yelling could be heard from the next room as another patient tried to not get patched up. "I'm fine. I don't need you to help me, in any way."_

"Oh." Sherlock mumbled as he suddenly could remember that day vividly. Molly hadn't known that Sherlock had been there too. It was probably best that she didn't. "John has a habit of making people feel comfortable around him. How nice." He said slowly.

"Did you figure out anything then, now that you know?"

"Yes. I'll work on that soon. Now, to the second portion of my discussion. Did something happen a year ago to you?"

Molly looked up at him, confusion etched into her face. "Um, I don't think so. Why did you ask?"

"This." He tossed her the folded piece of paper. Molly unfolded it and adverted het attention away from him as she tried to figure out how to approach the discussion. "What is IT exactly?"

"It's irrelevant today. There's no need to discuss it, Sherlock." Defensive. Interesting, Sherlock thought.

"Fine. What's with the one about me though? Are you harbing some sort of attraction to me...or something?"

Molly looked at him and scooted away from him. "It was put there specifically for if you were to find it. It means nothing. Stop thinking so much Sherlock, it'll only make you madder." She smirked at him as she laid down on her pillow, hoping to get some sleep.

"I am not mad."

"Maybe not. However you are a sociopath." She yawned before shutting her eyes hoping he wouldn't bother her for a couple hours.


	12. Hamish & Hooper (Part Two)

Molly had gotten accustomed to not seeing Sherlock for days but she hadn't exactly liked having him around for the past two and a half days. Every time she would get home she would find him sitting somewhere in here flat. Sometimes in her living room. Every time she left him in one room and went into another one that was close to another. It freaked her out and she had begun to whack him on the arm instead of saying anything.

Molly still wondered if he was going to fix things with John. He hadn't told her much of his plans only that it would be fine soon. Soon wasn't coming soon enough. She was becoming very anxious about the next instance that she and John would be within arms length again.

It felt really wrong in her opinion after she thought about it. She shouldn't feel anxious. She shouldn't have to be worried how things would go. He was her friend. He had been her friend for awhile now. She didn't like the sense of dread that came with him now. She just didn't like any of it. He hadn't been the funny guy she had met that day at the clinic.

No. Hamish had changed. She hadn't referred to him as that in a long time. Not since their initial meeting. It almost felt like it was an eternity now that that had happened. She supposed it had been years since that.

Molly was working on a test with a substance that she had found in one of the corpses when she had gotten a bit woozy. She set her instruments down so as not to drop anything then she took in a few deep breaths. She had been okay that morning. Nothing new had exactly happened.

She worked on the three bodies that had come in the night before without much of a break. Then there was the paperwork that she had begun to tackle but then she had remembered something peculiar about the body of one of her patients and had to go back and find it. That led to her working on this test.

Maybe she needed to take a break. There was no use in pushing herself too hard.

Molly took off her gloves and staggered over to her office. Her breaths began to come out shallowly. She sat down in her chair and tried to figure out what was happening without panicking too much. This was a hard feat however, the issue was in her lungs she figured. That's where it hurt the most.

It wasn't close enough to the center for it to be her heart but it was something she needed to worry about. Her [anxiety](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8097731/12/A-Study-In-Chemistry) was flaring up due to the [disability](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8097731/12/A-Study-In-Chemistry) she was experiencing. She needed to try to change that. She needed to try to separate the two problems and focus on one.

The sound of the door to the outer part of the lab seemed to send her panicking into overdrive and she stumbled to her feet. She reached out for the flat surface of her desk and turned her attention to the voice that had called out. "Molly?"

John Watson.

Well, this wasn't exactly the way she wanted to meet with him again but it would be okay. In fact Molly felt like it was good that it was even great that it was him not Sherlock. John was a doctor. He could help better than his friend. She didn't even want to begin to imagine how Sherlock would react to seeing her like that. The last time she had been in an almost life threatening instance had been after the whole drugging issue with Jim at the Holmes mansion and before both guys had left. There had been an explosion in the chemistry lab.

She brushed the memory aside as she straightened up and began walking out to the area where John was. He hadn't tried to enter her office which was good. She felt that it would be best if she approached him anyway.

"John." She breathed, forcing a smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around herself as stared at her friend. He looked considerably better. He looked less rattled and more him. "Hi." She said softly as she leaned against the doorway.

"Molly." He tilted his head to the side inspecting her appearance before letting his smile falter slightly. "Are you alright? You look a bit shaky." He started towards her. He was really concerned.

Molly straightened up her spine and looked at him as he stopped a few feet away. "I...fine." Her breathing had gotten a bit worse.

"You're out of breath. Are you sure...Molly?" John asked as he had noticed that she had shut her eyes and that she was panting. Her right arm seemed to tighten in some increments around her side.

"You're a doctor John." She spoke quickly as she opened her eyes again and slowly backed out into her office again. He followed her without hesitation.

Molly turned away from him for a moment as she looked around her small office for an area where she could move where it wasn't cluttered with things. There really wasn't any place but the floor.

Her body seemed to agree with her mind's suggestion because within a few seconds she had nearly collapsed onto the carpeted floor. John had reached out for her and helped lay her carefully on the floor. "Where's it hurt? You don't have to tell me, you can show me." He addes quickly as she began to open her mouth.

Molly looked at John for a moment and found herself smiling. He was still the same. They had been here before. Him caring for her after she had harmed herself or during a moment when she encounter a group of people who didn't like her. Basically anyone who wasn't John Watson or Sherlock Holmes.

She carefully unbottoned her lab coat and began to find the area where it was bothering her the most. "My...lung." She breathed as he tossed his jacket to the side and rolled the sleeves of his button up to his elbows.

He had stopped looking worried and instead had turn to being determined. He wore a a look of concentration on his face as he looked at his patient at her.

John poked and prodded the area he remembered she had clutched the most. It would be a bit awkward with anyone else to have to uncover beyond her shirt and her bra to really assess the area. That was so interesting about the two of them. They had been much closer than anyone else, and in that time they had becoming quite comfortable with each other. There wasn't much that would seem out of bounds for John and Molly.

This was why Molly didn't blush at the feel of him touching her in way that might seem wrong. It's why John didn't bother to say much when he found the problem. "You have a dissection tray in the lab, right?"

She nodded slowly, finally looked at him. He grabbed her hand and gave it a slight squeeze as he got to his feet. "I'll be right back. I need to get a few things. You're gonna be okay." He smiled at her to reassure her of this before rushing out of the room.

John recounted the list in his head of things he needed. First going for a sterilized set of the tools on one of the work stations and then he ran around the lab for the first aid kit. Gauze and a few other things would probably help with it too. Being an army doctor had him utilize anything that he got his hands on. He could work with just about anything.

Once he had everything that he needed he rushed back to Molly in her office. There he set to work on the incision first. It wasn't huge just a inch. He just needed it to be large enough that he could feel around for the tear. That's what he sensed it was. When he had felt around the area where her right lung was he had found an odd coloring there where it looked like a puncture mark had been made. He didn't think it was done by Molly herself. If she did, it didn't really make any sense to him.

It had to be something else. John had come to expect certain things out of certain people but Molly Hooper hadn't exactly changed. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Despite how awkward he had felt during their initial reunion at the park he had seen a bit of a change. Sherlock and Molly seemed more comfortable around each other. Not that they had exactly ever been tense around each other apart from a few exceptions, it was just something more. It was new.

He hadn't minded much. If anything it made him feel more happy with being back. He made him happy to know that things hadn't exactly changed much. He needed that.

He focused back on the woman who he was trying to help. She was in pain. She hadn't said anything but he could tell that she was having a harder time now that he had cut her. She was better than the soldiers. Most of them tended to scream. The most Molly did was nibble on her bottom lip or clench her hands into fist.

He put the scalpel down and looked up at her so that he could see if it was okay for him to continue with this procedure. He reached for her fisted hand and and unballed it and held it for a moment as he spoke. "It's going to get worse. Do you want me to get someone from anesthetics down her?"

"I'm...fine." She choked out in between breaths. She wasn't fine but she squeezed his hand in a gesture of assurance so that he would know she didn't mind if he continued.

"Okay." He sighed, he moved to one side, not letting go of her hand as he pushed his fingers into the open flesh and pushed around in there. He heard her intake a deep breath. It was more of shock than pain he realized as the same pressure she had been giving him in his left hand hadn't gotten worse. It was still the same.

"What are you doing?" A new voice said in the doorway as John continued moving his fingers around for the tear. He was rewarded with finding it at that very moment. A few sutures would be the best bet at getting her breathing to go back to normal.

"Did you have any altercations recently with anything sharp or with anyone holding anything sharp?" John completely ignored Sherlock as he crouched next to him overlooking this actions.

"No..." Molly trailed off as she looked away from both of them. She focused on the tiles on the ceilings. This really couldn't get any worse could it? She wondered as she began counting the tiles.

"I need you to take her hand. I need both of my hands." She heard John say to their friend.

"Me?" His voice had gone lower as if he was horrified.

"Who...else?" Molly rolled her eyes as she shut her eyes and swallowed a bit. She felt a bit woozy. "Sherlock." She mumbled softly.

The detective stilled a moment and looked past her uncovered body towards her face. Something seemed off. "Sherlock, talk to her. I need to fix this NOW. Her breathing is getting worse."

Sherlock didn't need to be told twice. He moved up towards where the pathologist head was. He made sure to have her hand within his grasp and began talking to her quickly. "Molly. I need you to focus on my voice. Ignore the pain for a moment and focus on me and my. Okay?"

He felt the smallest twitch in his hands as she squeezed it. Her eyes opened and she looked at him and for a moment he was brought back to the day he met her. She looked the same in her expression. Very much like a little girl who was lost. She looked frightened like she had been then. Except it was only now that he realized that she wasn't afraid of him like he originally thought it was something else. Then she was dealing with grief and now she was dealing with holding onto her life.

Most of the people would argue that he was a monster who didn't have a heart. He could feel the vital organ beating away against his ribcage at the notion of loss of this person ...this woman who seemed to have gotten him to feel things. Things that he ignored constantly. She was very important to him, he decided as he continued talking to her.

"Do you remember the incident in the chemistry lab, the week before I left?" He found himself asking.

John tried to tune them out as he began to repair the tear which he had to tear more skin to really be able to see. He only had a bit more to get to when he heard the question. Sherlock tended to not talk about anything that went on in those days with Molly. It surprised him now that he chose to talk about it.

As he finished up with the internal work and began to stitch the flesh up he smiled up at them as Molly spoke with Sherlock. There wasn't any hesitation there, he noticed. Nor was there in Sherlock's dialogue either. They had a special bond too whether they chose to acknowledge it yet or not. He almost felt like he shouldn't interrupt them but as they quieted down he felt it was okay to do so.

He closed her top and spoke then. "Do you feel okay, Molly?"

Sherlock let go of her hand and stood slowly as he stared at the doorway. "Lestrade is coming here. It's best if I go out to greet him while you clean up a bit." He straightened up a bit before exiting the room.

Molly shrugged him off as she looked over at the man who had single handedly saved her. "I feel much better." She smiled at him. She gestured for him to come closer to her though. He moved around the side of her and sat next to her and leaned over her. She sat up slightly and gripped his hand as he steadied her and she stared at him. "Thank you for coming to my rescue once again, Hamish."

John chuckled at her as she kissed his cheek softly. "It was my pleasure, Hooper." He stated before helping her to her feet slowly. She adjusted her clothing before taking John's arm as he led her out to the area where Sherlock was waiting with a much older gentleman.

All seemed to be well again.


	13. Darkness Uncovered/ Memories of the Past

_They were in the lab for another experiment. Molly and Sherlock that is. This experiment was fairly simple to Sherlock. As long as you didn't pour too much of one chemical there really shouldn't be a problem. There is always someone who didn't read the instructions though._

_Idiots._

_Sherlock had left Molly to her own devices after the last disaster where he almost shinged her bangs off. Not that that was a bad thing, Sherlock had added without thinking. Bad move, Holmes. He was suddenly drenched in the foul odor of the mixture of dried twigs coated in mud and other unmentionables. It had been difficult to get the stench out._

_Here he sat quietly keeping an eye on their experiment while at the same time observing others. Most people knew exactly what they were doing and didn't need any aid when it came to the method they were to conduct the lab. However there were a few who struggled immensely with this._

_Take for instance the duo of Heath and Catherine who were both much younger than most of the other classmates present. They kept on looking around in confusion, most likely trying to see if they were doing the task right. That wasn't a good idea as most of their peers were onto another step entirely._

_As a result led to the scuffle that happened next when Sherlock took the flask out of Molly's hand and then pushed her down as he calculated all the different ways that the naive duo had screwed up the assignment. "Sherlock, what the hell?"_

_"Get down." He shouted as he moved down to where he had shoved her. "Stupid idiots mixed the wrong concoction." He muttered as he looked down at Molly who was hovering over slightly in his haste._

_"What are you talking about? Everyone was doing fine last I saw."_

_"You weren't observing long enough, Miss Hooper. Young Heath and Miss Catherine weren't being careful. It'll go boom any second. Are you harmed from the shove?" His eyes roamed around her form quickly just as the loud sound of screaming and glass breaking._

_Sherlock was caught off balance as he was knocked down onto Molly. She breathed as she tried to catch up before he crushed her. It didn't help much. It only caused her wrists to sting as his form fell on them._

_He didn't stay there however. Instead he pushed himself off and shielded his partner from any debris that was still flying around after the experiment went wrong. He stayed there only five minutes before the sound of their instructor shouting instructions for everyone to get out was heard and he yanked Molly up and pushed her towards the door._

_It wasn't until she had been checked out did Molly realize that Sherlock had did something very unlike him. He saved her from being harmed. She knew he could have just left her there and got away scot free but instead he made sure to keep her away from the explosion before it even happened._

_She went on a search for him and found him talking to one of the men that were cleaning up the debris off the ground in the chemistry lab. She rushed towards him and pulled him away from the crew who looked exasperated by his conversation with them. It was a good thing she had come to fetch him._

_"Molly. I was in the middle of making sure they knew what they were doing. Is there any reason why you need my attention at the moment?" He was still being him._

_"They are qualified to do their job, Sherlock. They don't need a teenager to tell them how to do that. Regardless, you saved my life."_

_A look crossed his face for one moment before he looked away from Molly and went back to looking at the spill cleanup crew. "It was hardly as important as you make it seem. I saw something and decided that since you were nearby that I didn't need you in my way when I had to get down."_

_"I've learned a few things about you Sherlock Holmes. No matter how much you can fool other people you can't fool me. I know when you're lying. You like to justify why you do things so they won't hurt your image but you did help me. I appreciate that more than you know. That's all I wanted to say."_

_Sherlock had turned back to Molly for a moment. He was looking at her directly in the eyes. "It was nothing, Molly."_

_Molly rolled her eyes at him before reaching up and pecking him on the cheek, turning and walking away. Sherlock just stood stock still as he waited for the ridiculous emotions to passby before going back to oversee what the men was doing._

_It really wasn't anything._

Sherlock Holmes had gotten worse with age, Molly Hooper realized as they were in their second argument of the day. The first being about her choice in men after she had came home after Sherlock strickly told her it wasn't in her best interest to date the lawyer who she had only been out with once. He hadn't given much of a clue why he felt this way, he just said it would be a bad idea.

It wasn't until she had come back drenched from the walk back to her flat that any real problem arised. "You could have told me he was dating other people. That wouldn't be as bad as the last one." She shouted as she shut the door and marched into her room knowing that's where he was. He was always there. It was odd.

"Would you believe me, honestly Molly?" Sherlock sat up from his position laying down on her bed.

"You could have tried to stop me if you really wanted to." She grumbled as she began undressing. Sherlock turned away so that she could have some form of privacy as she changed. "What's makes you think I didn't try?"

"Not once did you say to me since the first date that it would be best not to go out with the man."

"I thought once was enough. Are you really that stupid?"

"No but clearly you are."

"Excuse me?" Sherlock got to his feet not caring that she probably was still undressing. He walked over to her office as she was slipping on a pair of sweats.

"Just because you tell someone once something doesn't mean they are going to remember or do as you say. I never listen to you."

"Obviously. One day it's gonna get you killed."

"I doubt that. You're very dramatic."

Sherlock just stood there. There really wasn't much he could say at present.

The second argument came at night when Sherlock uncovered another one of Molly's list. This one was filled with reasons why she should kill herself. He had analyzed it much like the last. It had been from three months ago. He had rushed back into the living room where he left her to watch a romance flick on the telly.

He grabbed the remote from off the table and flicked the television off.

"Sherlock. What do you need now?" She asked as she got to her feet. She stopped when she look on his face. His jaw was set as he teeth were most likely clenched on one side.

"What?" She asked quietly as she folded her arms and began to walk towards the kitchen.

"What happened three months ago?" She heard him say as she began rummaging through the fridge. She stiffened and halted her movements as she tried to figure out another way to bypass one of his questions.

"Are you hungry?" She asked as she began to pull a few things out to make soup. She was still feeling cold from walking home in the rain.

When she went back for more veggies in her fridge the door was shut by a large hand. She looked up at Sherlock and saw that he still hadn't changed. If anything he looked more angry over what she wasn't sharing.

"You don't need to know everything, Sherlock." She told him as she looked away from him again. He made it difficult for her to act normally. This wasn't a normal situation. Nothing had ever been normal ever since they left to go their own ways years ago.

She reached into a drawer and grabbed a knife and then the head of lettuce and the two onions that she had managed to grabbed without interference from the fridge. She began to cut them as she heard sigh from behind her. "You've been dodging my questions since I found the first list. I thought maybe it was okay that I didn't know about that. It wasn't nearly as serious as I thought. Then I found the second one hidden somewhere you knew I wouldn't be likely to check. Your intimates drawer. I got bored and decided to snoop some more anyway.

I am angry if you hadn't realized it. I think it's a justified anger. You wanted to kill yourself three months ago. No, you didn't write a date. I examined the ink and the paper and how worn it looked and I figured it out. I observe. I've always observed you and your actions but lately they've made little to no sense. I want some answers now."

"Why?" She breathed. She stopped during her cutting of the second onion as her eyes were burning. She liked to think it was from the fumes coming from the onions but that couldn't be entirely true. There was much more. Her body knew she didn't want to talk about these either. It got her real emotion. It made her weak.

"Why do you care?" She tried again when she was met with silence.

"I don't care. I am curious."

"No. You are worried. You do care. You just won't admit it. Why Sherlock Holmes, do you want to know about me? Why now?"

"You were contemplating suicide in a list."

"So?"

"It's stupid. What the hell happened Molly?" He had moved. She could feel him a few centimeters from behind. It was close enough. "Tell me. Please."

She squeezed the handle of the knife. She wasn't being careful of the blade but the pain of it gnawing into her thumb didn't really hurt as much as the lack of breathing she was doing on the inside as she tried to build up the courage to just say it. "I like lists. They help me think." She drew in a shaky breath as she shut her eyes.

"The first one that you found was written a week after I found out that I had a heart condition. It's incredibly rare but it was new. I thought I was dying originally but after consulting with many specialists I was relieved of a portion of the problem. I still have to take medicine and not do certain things or it could get very bad. That's why I told you to just leave it alone. It isn't a problem anymore." She felt his hand come around as she took a breath and move her hand away from the knife and over to the sink.

He had turned the water on when she was talking to him. He was very careful to not actually touch her wound and guided it under the water. He didn't look at her but spoke as he let the water run over ther hand. The blood mixed with the water created a red stream that circled down the drain. "Continue." He said quietly.

"The second came three months ago as you said. I was in a difficult relationship."

"He beat you." It wasn't a question. He was positive.

Molly waited for him to continue with his observation but he remained silent. "He did horrible things and I wanted to get away from him. That's really all I can say really."

"No. You thought it was the perfect solution. You thought that it would be okay to just give up because of him. He was nothing really. He thought he had you won. However, something changed didn't it?"

"You're always right." She muttered as she wrapped her hand in a towel and held it to her chest as she looked up at him slowly. "I used to tell him stories in the beginning about our adventures back in the academy and he never believed me. When he read the paper one day about a case you did he felt very afraid."

"Fear? What was he fearful of?" Sherlock eyebrow rose in intrigue as he stared at the small woman.

"That you would know what he did and get him locked up. He thought we were really close." There was a bit of laughter in her tone. It was only for a moment. "He fled the country and that was that, I guess." Molly shrugged.

"Can I see them?" It didn't take a genius to know that he was talking about the marks that were still on her body. Her clothes hid most of them.

Molly blinked before shaking her head. "No. That wouldn't be wise." She shook her head again before retreating out of the kitchen to her bedroom. Molly slipped under the comforter on her bed and just laid there.

Sherlock stood there in the kitchen for a moment blinking at the spot where Molly once stood. His mind had slowed down a bit since he had uncovered everything she had told him. There was much more she hadn't said but he had figured it out. He hadn't lied to John when he said that Molly hadn't been happy. It had been clear the first moment he saw her in the morgue of the medical building of her college.

It was only now that he realized just how much darkness there was left to uncovered.


	14. From the Abyss to the Light

Molly had taken a few days off from work after revealing vaguely to Sherlock about two of the many things that had happened over the course of the six year period of absence of both Watson and Holmes. She felt it was necessary to take this time off in order for her to get back to being herself and not having any of the thoughts plague her during her autopsy and the possibility of it making her make bad judgement when it came to her decisions.

It wasn't like she would ever do anything considered sinister in any way but when she wasn't okay which she admittedly told her superior she wasn't, she felt she shouldn't be allowed to do much of anything but sort things out and get as much rest as possible. Which brings us to the present where Molly is sleeping away in her room during the night. It is a quarter to two in the morning and she just now found a way to get some sleep.

However, a knock at the door caused her to want to cry. This was just getting worse. So, she stumbled out of her sheets nearly giving herself a concussion as the sheets twisted around her legs and she walked towards the door. At least the person had the decency to knock just once.

Molly being quite enraged by the interruption of her resting bypassed looking through her peephole and unlocked the door and swung it open, frowning. As she went to yell at him - a very common occurrence as of late when it came to Sherlock Holmes, she was taken off guard as Sherlock stepped inside a mere step invading her personal space in the process and then nearly knocking the breath out of her by pulling her to him roughly and kissing her senseless.

Molly being caught off guard frankly stood stock still for a moment before moving to not kiss him back but shove him away. It just felt very wrong. It wasn't very like him either and she was tired.

It took a bit of force but once she had done so she just stared at him as she backed up a few steps. He looked a little ashamed and went to speak when she did first. Instead of addressing the obvious she went for something entirely different. "What are you doing here?"

He shut his eyes a moment before returning back to his usual self and taking a look over the woman who he had practically assaulted. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought to stop by for a moment."

"At two in the morning? Why?" She folded her arms.

Sherlock had already surveyed Molly for the obvious signs of distress. She was that and so much more. He spotted the red spot when her head brushed up with something hard, most likely some wooden furniture. Her hair was in disarray as were her clothes. The things that set him off the most was her eyes. They were surrounded with dark circles that he was customary of seeing in sleep deprived people, that gave him the second clue that he had just woken her up.

"I needed to see that you were unharmed. There has been a serial murderer around your building. Just merely wanting to make sure you weren't out."

"And that?" She asked referring to the liplock.

Sherlock's face reddened slight before he looked away from her and at the clock that was directly behind her on a wall. "I believe some people do that when they find some good news. It was a small reaction to what I had been thinking." He turned back to her. His hands balling into fists at his side as he made sure he had direct eye contact with her. "I am sorry. Forgive me."

"Okay." She breathed as she ran a hand into her hair. "Before you go, I kind of really need you to so I can sleep...you were wrong again."

"What?"

"That reaction as you called it is most often used for couples who really love each other. Last time I checked you don't love me but you do care. Thank you for stopping by. I'm fine."

Sherlock nodded briefly before making turning around quickly. He stopped directly outside the threshold of the door with the handle in his hand and spoke clearly. "You're also lying besides the fact that you have been having nightmares again and can't sleep much, you Miss Hooper are not fine. You haven't been for awhile. I suggest you spend some time outside of your flat since you took the time off. I think John would love for you to visit him. You're always in a much better headspace after spending so much time with him. Good night."

With that said he closed the door and walked down the stairs and outside. There had been something Sherlock had kept to himself. A secret that he didn't plan sharing with anyone. There wasn't any murders nearby, there was only the nightmare that plagued him the hour before he found himself at her doorstep.

_There were occasional trips that the students of Holmes Chapel Academy were able to take as a group. Depending up grades and parental consent these trips were either a day or an entire week. The latter being the case during this current one._

_Molly Hooper had thought long and hard about whether or not she should have come at all. The cons had weighed heavily against the pros. Being alone for this final trip made it all the more worse in her mind._

_However, she had been persuaded to do so by a select few of her instructors. It had been a horrible decision to go, she knew it even when she packed her few things for the trip. They were heading for the icy mountains for a hiking trip and though Molly didn't have the necessary equipment it hadn't meant she couldn't go. There was the semblance of enjoying a nice warm book in front of a fire inside the lodging of the cabin._

_That had been the plan anyway._

_As much that had happened, nothing ever went as it was planned._

_Molly had decided to take a small walk around the much safer grounds where she was less likely to get hurt in any way and it was nice and peaceful for awhile. That was of course until she was found out by a large group of her peers._

_To this day Molly Hooper could never understand what they had against her to make her want them to be so cruel. One man couldn't be so special that he brought out these demons in people. It just didn't make sense._

_It had all been very quick. There were some words said, many that would make even the most stoic person enraged or humiliated. It depended on who you were really. From the words there were also a huge shove that caused little Molly to fall. Not just down but over a particularly high snowed cliff._

_If it wasn't for her awareness of everything she probably would have ended up being harmed much worse. Instead of much blood being spewed she caught her arm under the tip of the cliff forcing her shoulder to take most of the hit as she pushed herself down and away from the clutches of their claws. She fell on her back to a small area that really shouldn't be there. Molly clutched her arm wincing as she eased along the tiny patch of ground. It was nothing but blurry snow on down._

_She would have to stay there unfortunately. The winds were much stronger here than above but she knew no one would tell of her "mishap". No one actually cared about her, not anyone that was here._

_It wasn't until three days later that a rescue attempt was made. Molly had been crouched down in a weird position and had been unconscious. The team had said her body must have shut down on her and forced itself into a comatose state._

John had been floored throughout the retelling of this key moment in time that he had missed on. Molly as well as himself were laying in his small bed in the small flat he had been setup with through the military for his stay.

They were in a bit of an odd position for friends to be but it was quite comfortable, John had to admit. He had taken the area closest to the outside so that Molly was more secure. Her head laid at an angle on his chest while the rest of her limbs were curled up a bit to the side.

"Why didn't you never mention any of this in your letters? I would have liked to know."

"I don't think that would have helped all that much. I eventually got out of there anyway. It's fine."

"No, that's not good. I've seen so many people dwindle from the effects of trauma. I don't like that happening to someone I really care about. I want to hear about it when I'm not around."

"Okay." Molly nodded. "What about you, John?"

"This isn't about me, Molly. This is more about you and my idiot of a best friend."

"Sherlock? What about him?"

John was no fool when it came to the way Molly reacted to certain things. Right now she was doing exactly what she did when she wanted to avoid a topic; play dumb and coy. He could feel her shrink in a bit.

"You both do the same thing. Stop that. It won't make things change. He's a stubborn man who hates admitting he has feelings and you Molly shrink away at the possibility of showing yourself to him. You never cared what he thought before, you just told him off if you felt like it! What is different now?"

Molly sat up carefully and looked over at John, smiling lightly. "Everything has changed. I've experienced ungodly things, John. I can't just go back to that. Not yet. I don't know what to say about Sherlock. He hasn't exactly changed...that's not entirely true. He had kissed me twice now without warning."

"Wait...what?" John Watson eyes had gotten wide and he was now sitting side by side with her.

"Had he not spoken to you about that? Oops." Molly blushed as she turned away from her best friend and rushed out his bedroom. John quickly dashed after her.

"MOLLY HOOPER YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!"


	15. The Setup

John Watson had managed to get the awkward details over the two encounters where Molly and Sherlock had shared a very not so friendly smooch. It had been more awkward on Molly's part than his and now John was thinking about what should be done about it. It was true he was shocked that anything like that happened between the two friends. It had more a shock that Sherlock had been the one initiating each encounter.

That's what you get when you are around Sherlock Holmes. He had learned that upon his first meeting with him back at the academy. Expect the unexpected had been more than just a saying then, it was a fact. However, John didn't see it as necessarily a bad thing.

He had understood in a certain light why Sherlock had felt that he needed to kiss Molly the first time. Given it had been their first encounter again it was surprising that that had occurred but once Molly explained further there was always a little logic to what Sherlock did.

However not everything could be explained. Certainly not the second time he invaded the younger woman's personal space and kissed her. They hadn't been in public, they had been in her flat. From what she told him John felt that Sherlock had not been all there when he had done it. It wasn't until after the fact that he realized it. So, what was really going on in his best friends heads?

It didn't seem like Molly minded the first one exactly. The second one however seemed like she was very upset by it. Sherlock could be forceful when he deemed necessary. John felt the urge like knocking Sherlock into not next week but next month if that was what happened.

He needed to talk to his friend as soon as possible.

His opportunity came the following morning when Sherlock came to retrieve him to help with gathering up this gang of thieves who had stole various highly important items from people of both lesser wealth and those that were closer to the wealth of the royal family. This gang was known as Sapphire Underground.

Despite their name they didn't only grab items with sapphires. They took anything of value that seemed important. They had been doing this for almost five years but never had they been caught. It wasn't until they ventured into London did they catch the attention of the only consulting detective. Now, he planned to find them and bring them in.

He needed a little back up however. That was why Sherlock brought in John. The Sapphire are known to have gunmen around. Not too many but enough that it could get messy. John could help him with that.

Meanwhile Molly had decided to go out for lunch at a small sub shop close to Barts. She thought of visiting the nice lady who she had seen Sherlock talk with a few times at a shop closer to both John and Sherlock's flats but it was regrettably too far for her to make that trip then to go back to Bart's without coming back later that she is allowed to.

The sub shop wasn't too crowded so she was able to order and find a quiet corner to sit at and eat her small meal before heading back to check on the test she had started when she left and do the last autopsy of the afternoon before she could leave. John had texted her earlier asking if she'd like to go out for dinner. It probably wasn't smart to be eating out now but she was tired of eating the same not so edible food in the canteen.

As Molly was finishing up eating her sub and the small order of chips she found herself joined by another woman. The same woman who she had seen just last week. She never told anyone about that. She didn't think she should yet. She hadn't been threatening to her as of it. But she had heard stories from Mrs. Holmes whom had been by the previous month and invited her out to a expensive Italian restaurant. Molly had tried to decline politely but the older Holmes woman had been rather insistent.

"Hello again Doctor Hooper. You look...well." Irene smiled slightly as she looked over the small pathologist.

"Do you need something Miss Adler?" Molly cleared her throat, taking more tentative bites and sips of her drink.

"Do you know Sherlock Holmes very well? I've been watching his activity and he seems to be rather taken with you, Molly." She tested out the younger woman's first name. She had only ever called her Doctor, Doctor Hooper, girl, etc.

"I'm sorry but I don't think it's really any of your business if he does or not. From what I've been informed from very high sources you aren't welcomed near him just like James. You're quite alike aren't you." Molly mused. Mycroft had mentioned a way to annoy Irene if she was prying too much. He had slipped into the dinner with his mother during the dessert course and picked up on their discussion of the sultry woman who liked to try to sink her claws back into Sherlock.

Molly didn't exactly have a problem with her yet but she could see why the Holmes family didn't trust her.

Molly's statement seemed to enrage the woman because soon she was leaning forward out of her seat glaring down at the pathologist and seething. "Don't compare me to that delinquent. He and I are nothing alike. I do what I like for fun whereas he is just downright devious. I'd watch what I say next time Ms. Hooper. He could get you into a dangerous situation."

"I've been through much worse." Molly met Irene's eyes with a gaze that had Irene smirking a bit.

"So I've heard. I think it's pity that he stays around you. You've lost practically everyone haven't you. You have no one. Very sad really but you should learn to realize which men belong to you and which don't. You don't want to mess with me, Doctor Hooper."

"I could say the same for you, Miss Adler. I've dealt with your kind before and you will lose. You always do."

"Are you admitting that I have something to lose then?" Irene settled back down into her seat. She took one of Molly's chips in-between her fingers and inspected it before taking a bite of it and chewing slowly. Molly adverted her gaze from her, the simple action made her uncomfortable.

"I'm not admitting anything. I must leave you now however. I have work to be done. I'd like it if you and I don't cross paths for a very long time."

"Enjoy your night shift. There will be a slew of murders tonight or so I'm told. Tell Sherlock I said hello and give him this if you manage to remember." Irene reached out and pulled Molly a little further and pressed her lips against hers. "It's in your bag. Your observation skills are lacking. The nightmares must be hell, Doctor Hooper. Have a great day."

Molly sat there a moment after Irene had departed in shock over what had happened. She blinked a moment before she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She took it out seeing two messages. One from Mycroft (surprising isn't it?) and Sherlock. Both Holmes brothers were vying for her attention. How odd.

She opened Mycroft's knowing she won't have to actually answer it. He had sent her one before. She wasn't sure when or how he had gotten her number but maybe he had been keeping tabs on her too. Why? She didn't want to know. It had been clear he had upon reading the message.

**_Miss Adler is up to something as per usual. Your security has been upgrade as per mummy's request. - MH_ **

Molly tossed her trash in the bin on the way out as she slipped her bag over her shoulder and walked outside. She opened Sherlock's message as she noticed a black car waiting for her outside. No cab needed then. She slipped into it upon gesture by a man in a suit.

Molly was met by the elegantly dressed Mrs. Holmes. She smiled at Molly cheerily as she settled in across from her. "Hello dear. I've requested you take the rest of the day off. When you throw around words like the royal family and meetings and important case people tend to want to do things for you. Anyway, how was your lunch?"

"Not as great as I hoped. I was interrupted."

"Yes, I noticed. Hand me the box she slipped in your bag. Sherlock won't be getting that."

"Oh." Molly breathed as she reached into her bag and pulled out a light blue wrapped square packaging. Mrs. Holmes extended her hand for it and Molly carefully placed it in her hand. She examined it much like she had seen Sherlock do before giving it a little shake. The sounds of ticking could be heard.

"Window!" She yelled and once it had been rolled down she tossed it out. A blast could be heard from behind the car. Molly looked worriedly out the window.

A phone that Molly hadn't noticed before began ringing besides the older lady. She quickly grabbed it up smiling. "Hello dear. Yes, Miss Adler is trying to kill your brother or so it seems. Ah, yes a game probably. No. We can't have that. Please make sure it's taken care of. Thank you sweetheart."

She hung up and placed her phone back where it sat previously. "I think you'll be staying with us for awhile. Sherlock will be notified once he's done with the gang of thieves. Not to worry."

Molly just sat there not knowing what she could even say to that. She did wonder if anything had changed since the last time she was at the Holmes mansion. It would be interesting to go back.

Molly just smiled in thanks as she enjoyed the ride out of London. The text message long forgotten from the younger Holmes man.

_Are you available to assist me with something? - SH_


	16. The Poison, The Cure

Molly didn't dally around the Holmes family home too long except to walk around a little to familiarize herself with it again. It hadn't necessarily changed much a part of a few changes in the decoration of the drapes in the sitting room and a few new additions to the staff. She had a pretty decent memory.

Mrs. Holmes had made that Molly and her had tea and a biscuit or two before she had one of the guards who were newly acquired show Molly up to her room which wasn't the same one as before. It was one much closer to the immediate family.

Her room was edged between the one that was Mycroft's and the other being his little brother. She had been told that it had always been this way in the position of the two brothers' rooms. They were close but still not right next to each other. She found if slightly amusing.

In the middle of her musing of this she was nearly knocked back as Mycroft himself came out of his room in his usual garb. "Ah, Miss Hooper you've made it safely with mummy then."

She didn't say anything. He didn't exactly ask anything of her so she didn't feel she had to respond. He continued speaking after a moment. "You haven't been up to the laboratory again, have you?"

"No, should I want to go back up there?"

"If you like. One of the guards will have to escort you. We don't need a repeat of the last time do we? It was quite troubling for us to make sure all the areas of the house were secure again. Moriarty is a bit of a pest, you understand." Molly could hear the deep contempt in the eldest Holmes brother as he discussed this matter with her.

"Of course." She paused slightly, thinking before speaking again. "I'd like to go see it just for a moment. I'm a little tired."

"Very well. Smith, would you take Miss Hooper up to the west wing to the laboratory. Make sure she gets back here within a ten minute time limit or someone else would be coming along to do your job for you."

"Yes sir." A tall man with a shade of brown hair that would be considered closer to the color of chocolate rushed over and gestured for the small pathologist to come along. He was quiet for the most part but that didn't make Molly very uncomfortable. She could just look at hin and know he was good at his job. He had this look in his eye that she had seen before. It was mean nor nice it was just somewhere in between.

Molly didn't waste much time with Smith once she had reached the door of the laboratory. She turned the handle and went in after Smith had told her he would wait right outside and gave her a comfirmation word to yell out if something bad happened and a safe word as well. Molly committed them to memory before leaving him outside in the corridor.

The lab too look almost the same with a few exception in the type of equipment that was placed on the table top. More exquisite and technical looking microscopes were stationed there. On the back wall where the cabinets and sink was located there were canisters filled of different substances. Both solid and liquid. There were labels on them with the cursive writing of her once chemistry partner.

She smiled at that briefly before turning away to take a seat at the table for a brief moment. She was feeling more tired by the second. As she settled down on the stool that had been hers for that day she became a little confused.

Why would Sherlock still have two set of things here when she hadn't been back for six years? It was odd in her opinion.

She moved to get up after a moment of relishing in the old memories but was pulled out of her happy balance of memories and reality as she was shocked to feel someone pull her back from off the stool before she could move. Her throat was grabbed and she stilled not sure who they were on what they wanted.

The stool had skidded across the floor making quite the noise in the man's haste to stop her. He had a very large hand she noticed as she tried to control the racing of her heart and the panic that was quickly was arising.

"Stay quiet. I only have a message from my bosses. Two different people if you were wondering. The first would like you to know that you are becoming quite an interesting entertainment while the other would just like you to know these last words..."

Before the man whose voice both calmed and scared her at how nice it sounded could tell her the second message could be muttered into Molly's ear there was a knock on the door and the voice of her guard - Smith could be heard. "Miss is everything okay? There was a bit of noise. Would you like me to come in?"

"Lie to him. The second message is much more important. I'd really love to get my hands dirty but I was told not to this time." The man whispered in her ear as he let go of her neck slightly to give her a bit more oxygen so she could speak.

Molly was quick about it. She shut her eyes, and spoke quickly. "Rabbits. I was just a bit clumsy. I'll be out in a moment." She had did the opposite of what she was supposed to do. She had given the word that told Smith she wasn't safe but gave the illusions that she was going along with what the man was doing.

"Two minutes, Miss." She heard Smith say from the other side of the door. There was something in his tone that gave her the indication he was ready now to open the door. Perhaps, his hand was already on the door.

"Okay." Molly sighed as the man spoke quietly, completely letting go of her. He was behind her, she could feel that.

"The second message is quite simple really. You've lucked out in this game sweetie. You're playing a big girl's game and you're still a kid. It's been a pleasure, really. You'll remember me, the woman who beat you. Goodbye Doctor Hooper."

Molly could feel herself shaking as the door opened and Smith rushed in with a gun in his hand. He moved about the room in a quick hurry, opening cabinets and moving curtains aside but it was too late really. The damage had already been done.

Molly head hit the floor before Smith could reach out to grab her.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

"No. Sherlock you can't mess with her. We're doing all we can at the moment. She's still alive right now and that's what you need to focus on." John Watson reasoned as he pulled his friend away from the bedroom where the Holmes had setup a home version of a hospital room for Molly. Mycroft had jumped into action when he was approached by a sullen looking agent carrying the small woman in his arms.

He led him into the room and had her put her down before calling the best doctors he knew. Once he made the call he had a discussion with the agent about what had occurred before sending him downstairs. Mycroft had stayed in Molly's room to oversee that she would be fine until the doctors got there.

He just kinda looked at her not daring to touch her. He had inspected her form briefly to see if she could find anything that gave him a telltale of what happened in the course of the fifteen minutes since he had last seen the pathologist. There had been the imprint around her neck but it wasn't necessarily done heavily to make it seem that strangulation was the problem. No, that wasn't it.

Something else had happened in the day then.

He mulled on it as the doctor's began to gather around the small woman who didn't even flinch as an IV needle was injected into her arm and the professionals began assessing her for anything significant.

It was moments after that he could hear the argument going a few paces from the room. Sherlock had arrived and most likely had been informed of the unfortunate issue that was now at hand.

Mycroft excused himself from the room and stopped his brother in his tracks before he could try to get into the room. "What happened, Mycroft?"

"I believe Miss Adler happened, again."

"How can you possibly be sure of that?" Sherlock frowned at the notion that the woman had been involved once again when it came to his life and the downfall of another friend. It had happened once before years before he met Molly or was interested in her as a person really. Their history was practically murky.

"I've been tracking her movements for awhile now. She has been frequently harassing your female companion for months now. Miss Hooper obviously hasn't informed you of this from the look on your voice." Mycroft paused a moment as he looked at his watch, as confirmation. "Four and a half hours ago Miss Adler interrupted Miss Hooper's lunch at that little sub shop near St. Bartholomew's and though I don't have all the details of what transpired I believe this was her doing."

"There is something else you aren't saying, what is it?" Sherlock had seen his brother glance for a moment to the side during his explanation and that gave him the smallest indication that he wasn't telling everything.

"She gave something to Molly but it's been dealt with. Mummy seems to like doing things sometimes." Mycroft smiled slightly.

"What is it?" Sherlock said again this time firmly. He wouldn't let his brother leave without telling him. All details were essential when it came to Molly Hooper it seemed.

"A bomb to be delivered to you. It was wrapped in blue wrapping paper."

Sherlock moved towards the door of his room seeing as his brother didn't want to leave his post at the door. He let out an annoyed sigh as he flopped down on his bed and shut his eyes. Why is it always her, he pondered as he slipped into his mind palace a moment before he realized something. He wasn't alone.

"Oh, how I've missed you. Am I entertaining you again, darling?" Irene smirked as she tilted her head to the side in the chair that was next to his bed. Her legs were folded sideways and she looked quite delectable in a low cut blue blouse and a black skirt that covered a portion of her legs. She never really left much to the imagination, Sherlock scoffed.

"More like being annoying. How'd you get in my room?" He sat up and stared over at her. His gaze never faltering from her face.

"I do know this place quite well. Have you forgotten all the fun we used to have? Has she cluttered up my space in your mind then?"

"Is that what this is about...you harming Molly to get to me? Aren't you being a little desperate here? For the record I haven't forgotten about our time together, I simple wish not to be bothered with it anymore. You're hard to forget."

He stood up.

"What did you do?" The slight glisten of his eyes had gone and now he looked enraged.

It took Irene off guard. It had been awhile since she had seen that look. She bit her lip. "Kiss me and I'll tell you. There is no guarantee you can save her but I can tell you what I've done. I think I'll need to be punished later for it."

Sherlock turned away from her. He shut his eyes as a brief moment came back to his mind. The first tantalizing kiss between Irene Adler and himself. It had been before Academy and it had been quite the moment. It had almost taken him off guard. She had snuck up on him. Almost like now. Except he had people watching her.

He turned back around and nearly jumped up in the air. He smiled. "Sorry, I can't have dinner with you tonight. You've met up with your old friend haven't you. River. Which tube did she give you?"

Irene seemed to be shocked for a moment. "What gave it away?"

"You love surprising people don't you, Irene? Molly isn't very stable when she's caught off guard. You kissed her. Which lipstick did you use?"

Irene stayed silent. She wanted to smack him. She clenched her teeth and went to go to the window which had been her way in initially but a strong grip pulled her towards him. Sherlock pressed his lips against hers, making sure he kissed her long enough that he could get what he wanted and then he let her go.

"There. You got what you wanted and so have I." He swiftly turned around taking in what he could feel from the poisonous lipstick. That's what it was really. Poison. Now he had to come up with the cure.

He grabbed John out of Molly's chambers before heading up to his lab. They had work to do.

MHMHMHMHMHMH

_"Molly, I need you to promise me something." A smaller version of the auburn haired woman at the age of six sat down reading a book with her mom at bedtime._

_"Anything mummy." The small girl looked up at her mum smiling as she laid cuddled up against her listening to her every word as she waited for her mum to continue. She really adored her mum._

_"When you're older, promise me you'll save your heart for someone special. He doesn't have to be a prince like in the fairytales I read you at night. Just let him be someone that will take care of you and be someone that you can love in spite of the flaws he's bound to have. Just let him be yours and you his when the time is right. Not anytime before that."_

_"I promise. You mean like daddy is to you?"_

_Her mum laughed as she tickled her. "Well he's a very special case. I do love him very much."_

_Molly laughed as she hugged her mum. He had to be special, she promise._

Hooper&Holmes

_Molly was angry with him. He could tell from the very moment she sat down next to him. She wouldn't look at him. She never did when she was cross with him. Not when he had angered her a great deal. Sherlock stayed quiet this time instead of trying to saying anything._

_He could wait until they weren't in the presence of so many witnesses. He had been right though, that much was clear._

_"Why didn't you just tell me?" She whispered in a very annoyed tone as their professor came around to give out the packet for the new lab they were to do._

_"I did. You just ignored my warning as usual." He sighed, writing his name alongside hers as they received ther packet._

_"You did not say that something had happened. You just said I shouldn't go. How did you even know about that woman who is now living with my dad anyhow?"_

_"His tone and hurried speech when you were on the phone with him. He was clearly not telling something. A new female in his life was more likely than anything else."_

_"Why didn't you tell me that? I would have just stayed here."_

_"I've been told by two people it's kinder to keep certain things to myself. I thought this was one of those times." He turned and looked down at the girl._

_Oh. Not good then. He turned away after speaking hurriedly. He had been wrong. "My mistake. I am sorry."_

_"Mister Holmes & Miss Hooper would you like to instruct your peers on this lab or should I just give you a detention now."_

_Sherlock went to retort but the feel of Molly Hooper's hand on his wrist told him to not do that. He would get sent to the dean once again. "Detention for two, I suppose." He looked down at her hand on his wrist and turned his hand around so that he could touch the inside of her own._

_Her pulse had calmed down significantly. This was good._

_Molly slipped her hand from his grasp and turned back to their professor who was writing something on the board._

Sherlock had partically sent everyone away once he with the help of John who was trained in treating patients adminstered the anecdote into the IV. John had decided to get a little something to eat from the kitchen as Sherlock sat down in a chair a bit away from the bed.

He focused on the heart monitor which had been barely moving. It had started to slowly get stronger and that made him sigh in relief. It had almost been a shot in a dark but John had given it to Sherlock first.

He had called him an idiot for kissing Irene again but then went back and thanked him for not letting her get away. John had probably wanted to kill Irene once he found what had happened. Sherlock would probably let him. He was done keeping her out of the clutches of those she had done wrong.

He had others he cared about more. Ones he could say he did without much regret.

Sherlock shut his eyes after awhile. The beeping from the machine was giving him a headache while at the same time lulling him into peace for a little while.

Molly slowly came to nearly two hours later. She just stared at the ceiling for awhile before turning slowly to the man in the chair. Her throat was sore and her body hurt like hell but she spoke as loud as she could. "Sherlock..."

He sat up as he heard her soft voice speak. He looked over at her and smiled. "Thank you." He heard her say with a small smile on her face.

"Anytime, Molly."


	17. Captain of Envy

It took four days, almost an entire week for Molly to get back on her feet after the little Irene kissing issue came about. Everything had been quite good since then. Everyone had begun to slowly recede back into their normal routines. Especially Molly.

She had many obligations waiting for her upon her return to Bart's Morgue. There seemed to be several deaths of both natural causes and the not so normal kind. As expected she hadn't really had time to visit John or have a lunch with Sherlock. But, when had that actually stopped the trio from doing anything together?

They were connected in every aspect of their lives. As a result both Sherlock and John had taken residence in the lab that was near to the small cubicle sized office that was off to the side in a separate section of the room. Molly did a few autopsies before coming up to do some paperwork and check on her boys before going back to work on more cadavers.

Sherlock had commented more than once on the fact that it had to be getting boring. Molly disagreed, she loved her job and was never bored of doing it. More than anything she found going down to the morgue brought her a bit of a getaway from thinking about what had happened. She hadn't really had the time to really think about it. It had scared her, she knew that.

Who knew something as simple as a kiss could cause such a deadly consequence? Granted, she hadn't even been prepared nor did she want to kiss the woman who had initiated the act. It didn't mean she wasn't overwhelmed by it all. She definitely had.

In fact her thoughts had been keeping her from going home. She mainly stayed here at the morgue working and drinking copious amounts of coffee to keep her up. John could see that she looked tired but Sherlock saw much more. He could see just how long it had been since she last got the most sleep.

Almost four days. Her clothes were wrinkled from a brief nap on the small cot in her office a few hours ago but other that she was running on pure adrenaline. He peered over at her instead of looking at the screen that was filtering through the chemicals he was running for a test. "You need to go home." He stated after a moment.

"What? I'm fine. I only have a few more to do. Two, I think. It won't take long really." She brushed his comment aside as she signed her name at the bottom of the form she had just finished.

"Then take a lunch."

She smiled unexpectedly at that. "I am. I'm just waiting..." She trailed off just as the door to the lab opened and a tall gentlemen was peered around the door and smiled briefly before coming in all the way. A hat in his his hand. He was uniform, Sherlock saw.

Who's that?

Molly dropped her pen at the sight of the man and walked over to him and giving him a short hug before speaking to him happily. Sherlock just stared at the man and the way Molly seemed to get very excited at his appearance. It was very strange to him to see that. She looked about to drop a few moments prior.

He was a pilot of some kind. That much he could observe from his uniform. He had reddish brown hair - ginger. That was new. Sherlock didn't come across a lot of those. He looked a little skittish but at the same time quite elated as he conversed with the shorter woman.

Sherlock was feeling a bit on edge at their exchange. For one he couldn't hear what they were saying and their close proximity was a bit overwhelming. If it wasn't for John in the room practically shooting him looks he probably would have did something by now.

The pilot wasn't a bad man. He couldn't see anything off about him which was good but it was also irritating him. He didn't like this. There was always something wrong with the men Molly associated herself with. Who was this guy? Why was he able to make her so happy?

Sherlock turned back to his test as it chimed letting him know that he had finally gotten a result. Good. This also seemed to serve as a distraction from those thoughts that he knew were only going to lead to very dark places. It often did.

He heard a soft giggle before there was quiet once more. He turned slightly and saw that both Molly and the pilot had exited the vicinity.

"For someone who doesn't do emotions or feelings you got bit pretty hard." John chuckled as he stopped by his best friend.

"Sorry? I don't understand."

"You seem upset by Molly's friend. You don't know who he is do you and that makes you feel a bit not so easy...maybe a little jealous." John smiled.

Sherlock's head shot to the right as he looked directly at his friend who still couldn't stop smiling. "I don't get jealous. Besides I feel like you need to tell me something. You know who he was, the pilot?"

"When it comes to Molly you are able to feel all kinds of things, I'm sure. You don't need to feel envious of him however. They're just friends. To answer your question, yes I do know who he is."

Sometimes Sherlock hated when John decided to toy with him. It really got under his skin. "Who is he?"

John was amused but wasn't really in the mood to argue with Sherlock. He needed to get some lunch himself. He was famished. "As you said, he's a pilot. His a captain in fact. I'm sure you saw the stripes on his uniform's jacket sleeves and the hat."

Sherlock nodded as an acknowledgement that this was both true and that John should continue.

"He flies people and cargo on a plane with MJN. It's a small airline service. His name is Martin Crieff. They met a couple years ago when Molly had went to Cardiff for a little while."

"So, I don't need to worry. Not that I am worrying." Sherlock said quickly.

"No, they are just really good friends. Doesn't mean they wouldn't make a lovely match. They're a lot a like actually. In fact they would be perfect together. But don't worry mate. I'm pretty sure Molly isn't interested."

"How can you be sure of that?"

John sighed, tired of the conversation already. Why couldn't they just get together already? The confused Sherlock wasn't really something John enjoyed having to deal with. He asked too many questions.

"Molly actually talks to me."

John began for the door then.

"NOT EXACTLY HELPFUL JOHN!" Sherlock shouted as his best friend made his getaway.

John just shook his head outside the door before popping his head back in to give his friend a little advice. "Then actually do something about it mate. You don't have to do much. Just move."

Then he was gone and Sherlock was left there to think.


	18. Parallel.

  
_Maybe you will hold my heavy heart, take me a disaster and make me art._

- **Ally Rhodes**

There were things that kept Sherlock Holmes up at night. Many he didn't bother to discuss for reasons that only made sense in his mind. He knew what others thought of him and only pondered on the views of those he deemed of the most important. At first there was no one. Then came his best friend, John Watson and along with him unexpectedly came another person. Someone who he had been toying with in his head of which area she belonged to.

Molly Hooper was someone much more brilliant and clever than was first seen through the eyes of anyone let alone Sherlock Holmes. The day he had really become of her presence, the day he first actually spoke to her without the regard of needing something inside a lab for Chemistry was the day he had given her a handkerchief. She had been of less importance then as compared to this time, during these past couple months.

On first glance she looked quite miserable and really didn't seem like much in the eyes of the younger boy. He had just dealt with her because even then he had needed her. It was much harder for me to accept that fact. He had liked working alone. It had been all the professor's doing in a way. He started the distraction, though not automatically.

That had come from his so-called best friend who had suggested that the very quiet girl sit with them for lunch. It really only seemed to expound from there. The dance which she had originally rejected the idea of accompanying him to but ultimately ending up doing anyway. It really was the smallest of things. Compared to now, things have gotten more messy. Much more complicated, especially when it comes to the mind of a genius like him.

He went over things more than the average person and this was truer in the present as he is stuck in the palace of his large mind wondering about certain times when Molly had ultimately shown her hand. No true game had been dealt but Molly had many cards that dealt themselves at the most unexpected times.

Case and point:

_They were on a walk. Molly and Sherlock that is. They weren't on it for no reason exactly. It was supposed to be more of a hike seeing as they were on an outdoors type trip with the rest of the chemistry class. However seeing as Molly had just gotten over being sick and still had the sniffles and Sherlock didn't see the point they had slowed down to more of a walk as the other students were a bit more eager._

_Molly had told him to go ahead with everyone else. She was being more polite about it. She didn't like the idea of slowing anyone down. Sherlock stayed quiet and by her side as they started the trek with the other members of their class up into the woods. The goal was to get to the clearing in the middle of the area. It was a bit far and each person not partnership was to get something to examine through any of the methods (labs) that they had learned (or remembered) from the semester._

_Their instructor was to grade each of them individually as they came back inside. It was an all day event, starting the moment they exited the classroom after all the guidelines had been spelt out on the projector screen until the following day when class came back into session for the final time. It was their biggest grade, in other words._

_Most groups had planned to meet in the clearing but it wasn't really a rule. You just had to get your lab finished correctly by the alloted time was up. It was fair._

_Sherlock had already gotten a view of the items that had been scattered throughout the woods from his dormitory. He had a telescope that he didn't use for stargazing, it was more of a prop that he used when he was younger as he played pirate. Who knew it would come in handy now?_

_He tucked it in his coat as he had left this morning. Not really knowing if he would use it while they were out there but having it regardless._

_He sighed as he turned and looked down at Molly who was walking silently a few metres away from him. She would spot items but didn't go near them. He had the idea she was looking for something specific. No one was supposed to know what was out here, but that didn't mean anyone didn't already._

_Sherlock had already reached up at the first vial he spotted that was in his height range. He didn't wish to really go down anywhere and crawl. That's more of a peasant game. The vial was a glowing blue color. He stuck it in his pocket before joining Molly who had been only a few spaces ahead of him. He chose to stick with her despite the fact he could go back to start his lab._

_"You don't usually waste too much time." He heard Molly speak as she crouched down and plucked up something tiny into her hands, folding it so that it would fit into her pocket._

_"I'm not wasting time. Just waiting." He stated as she turned back to him, dusting her hands off as she joined him again._

_"For what?"_

_"Nothing in particular. Are you done?" He said looking away from her and turning around as to go back._

_"I suppose so. Are you ready to go back."_

_He nodded and began to walk back but Molly spoke up again causing him to stop in his tracks._

_"Did you love her?"_

_He turned back to her with confusion etched in his face as he spoke, seeming a bit distracted. "I'm sorry, what?"_

_"Um. That girl from when we were at John's home before. Irene, I think -."_

_"Yes?" He stated. It seemed like more of a statement when it came to Molly so she just nodded._

_"Ah. I was just curious. You two seemed closer, so I thought I'd ask." She smiled at him._

_"You're mistaken, Molly. I was referring to the fact that I knew whom you were speaking of." He walked closer to her, only stopping when he was standing directly in front of her. Almost hovering. "I don't experience the same woes as most of the people here because I see things differently. Love is just a chemical mixup for a moment that is often confused with lust or so I've heard. I don't do feelings. Feelings are such silly things that could lead to the destruction of one's life. They complicate things and I don't wish to deal with them. I chose to use logic and scientific reasoning behind matters whereas most use sentiment."_

_Molly had been watching him ever since he begun his explanation, so she saw the way his face scrunched up as he uttered that last word "sentiment"._

_She wanted to laugh at it but how serious he looked made her realize that wouldn't be the wisest decision at this current time. She chose to ask a question instead. "You don't like sentiment then, I take it?"_

_He leaned down to her then, took her by the shoulders carefully and whispered in her ear in his rough voice - a signal that he was experiencing a bit of irritation at the subject. "No, sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side. To answer your question I don't nor have I ever loved Irene Adler. It was more of a game, a powerful game that was more of a lie than anything that has ever been true when it comes to me and what I wish for you to perceive of me."_

_"Why does what I see matter?"_

_"It shouldn't but you see things. Things that shouldn't be so obvious and that makes me very uncomfortable."_

_"I don't have a problem with who you are, if that's what you're afraid of."_

_"I'm not afraid of you." He stepped back, his eyes shining from the intensity of their discussion._

_"I never ...I know. You're afraid of what happens if I see more than what you want me to. I am sorry." She said as she stepped closer to him nearly taking him off guard at her close proximity._

_Molly didn't dare move anywhere closer with the fear he would just walk away. She didn't want that. This had been their most honest conversation to date._

_Sherlock just took her hand then and held it for a while before realizing that they were still standing outside and it was getting darker in the woods. "We should head back. We have labs to do."_

_Molly just nodded, thinking that he would just let go of her hand then only to be shocked as he turned and pulled her along the trail back out to the campus. His hold seemed to get tighter as well._

Sherlock was good at deleting things, especially things that he didn't see worth remembering. The people in his life had their own areas in his mind palace too. Some things were kept there, key information or moments he made himself not forget. The areas were supposed to be small but some expounded more than the others. Molly Hooper's place for instance.

He tried to delete it before after the first murder investigation he did that was focused on the life of a woman her exact age and had some of the same features in height and hair color but it was as if his mind had rejected the idea. It was important to have those memories stowed away for when he needed them.

He needed them more than he thought. Especially on nights like this.

Without the focus of a case on his plate Sherlock has been more willing to succumb to sleeping. Not because he needs it no, he can go days without getting any at all. He has gotten to that point where he is that bored. He becomes annoyed with being awake, sleeping is the only logical solution.

However sleeping also comes with a problem, one that makes him quite uneasy. He dreams of things. Not exactly uncommon for anyone but the variation of his dreams haven't stayed pleasant. If anything he jolts awake out of constant terror. His subconscious mind and his mind palace seem to be interlinked when it comes to one thing.

Tonight it has gotten worse because he forces himself to wake again and he is fairly certain he isn't afraid of anything. Not really. This nightmare seems to be developing in a much more descriptive light that causes him to look for anyone near and bash their heads in. Anger is an ugly thing.

It is not even him he sees in his head. It is much worse. There is a large man and all he sees is red as there are blows being thrown left and right. He is choking her and she has long since stopped screaming. She can't any longer. She isn't truly there. Not anymore really. She's been dead for a mere minute before he pulls himself out of it.

Sherlock doesn't stay there in his bed, not even in the flat. He just throws on his coat and makes he way out just like he's done before. He isn't really thinking. He can't really until he knows for sure.

The ride in the cab is much like the last one -silent. His mind is racing. He can feel the way his blood is racing quickly. In a different way he is experience a bit of adrenaline but it isn't wanted. Not this time.

He throws a few bills at the cabbie as he rushes towards the flat. He unlocks it as he did the last time and goes up the stairs. Three flights of stairs in fact and he almost stumbles a bit as he comes to her door again. He knocks quickly and tries to think clearly but it really isn't possible. He still doesn't know for sure.

Molly looks as tired as the last time but there is a faint glimmer in her eyes that shows something. He can't tell what it is. She isn't looking at him directly. She has her hand over her eyes as if she doesn't want to see, though she did look up briefly after opening the door.

"What do you want?"

Sherlock just ignores her and does something that he know will probably get an odd reaction but he does it anyway. He steps towards her and pulls her into his arms. He kinda cradles her there and doesn't realize something is wrong until he feels her pushing him back and then there is a bit of a twinge as he feel her hit him, it doesn't really register at first.

It isn't until she is speaking and he let's go of her does he notices the way she is shaking a bit. She never stares at him, and there is a slight sway in her form as she asks him, "Why do you do this? Drinking ...what do you think it helps?"

She's not exactly there. He rationalizes that she is but mentally she is not. She is remembering something. Sherlock halts for a second and looks around, not because anything would have changed. Molly keeps things as they usually are. He's looking for any type of sign that he shouldn't come in. He know he shouldn't leave. He can't. He triggered something just then unknowingly.

He hates himself for the part of him that thinks of this as a good thing. He'll finally be able to get somewhere. He shakes his head as he steps over the threshold and grabs her by the shoulder like he had done a few times before. He ignores the tingle that he feels and speaks to her quietly. "What do you see?"

Molly just shakes her head at that almost flinching as she whispers the word, "no." She repeats it several times sounding similar to a toddler that isn't getting his way. She tries to push him away again but Sherlock's eyes change. He is determined to fix it. It was his fault, partly.

He sighs and pressed his head against hers as he continues to talk to her. "He's not here anymore. Just me, Sherlock." He had a feeling that that was what it was, the guy who he deduced during one of his visits before. The man who beat her.

He expected her to fight a little more but was surprised to feel her reach up and feel the curls at the nape of his neck. He bites his tongue as he feels a little shiver at her touch. Now he was the one fighting something. "S-Sherlock..." he feels her breathe raggedly against his neck. He thinks she has come back to reality a bit. "What are you doing here?"

He sighs as he looks down at her and gives her a weak smile, "I don't know."

She kinda looks at him in a way that makes him realize she knows he's lying. It's that thing she does when she sees him again. Instead of questioning him though she tilts her head to the side for a moment before tugging on his hair which he had momentarily forgotten was still in her grasp. He leans down slightly as he figured out what she was aiming at. He presses his lips against hers for a quick peck, testing her.

Molly just snakes her arm around him and Sherlock thinking this shouldn't be the time to do any of this. He is sure Molly is still in her half dream state so he presses his lips against hers again this time for awhile long before reaching down and lifting her up with her legs in his arms and begins to walk towards her room. Then he remembers the fact that the door is still open so he back tracks carefully and kicks it closed and gathering her in one arm while he locks it.

Molly had shifted slightly and had her head resting on his shoulder. Her eyes closed. Definitely asleep, he smiled as he walked back towards her room and placed her under the sheets carefully.

He thought briefly of leaving but decided perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to stay - if only for tonight.

He didn't sleep. He just lay there next to her with his eyes closed.

It wasn't until sometime later in the night did he feel her stir. He looked down at her and saw that she had twisted around so that she was facing him. Her face was scrunched up in a way that made him feel she was in distress. He did want to help.

It was then that he remembered the way he was once comforted as a small boy by Mummy. It might work here too, he thought as he reached over to her carefully and trailed his hand carefully down her arm in a soothing gesture. He paused briefly to see if it was making it worse but there had been a brief change and so it continued to soothe her in the way he found most appropriate.

Once Molly seemed to calm a bit he pulled his arm back and sat there watching over her to make sure she was okay. After awhile he fell asleep without really trying.

It was the sound of her voice talking that made him wake again. It was still quite dark outside. Possibly three in the morning now. She didn't have her eyes open but she was awake somewhat. She knew of his presence he could tell.

One of her hands was nestled on top of his that sat near her thigh. He turned his focus back to what she was saying. "I almost died once...when you and John were away. He was a nice man at first but I wasn't aware of his drinking problem and how jealous he was of you."

"Of me?" Sherlock spoke.

"I talked about you a bit. He didn't believe that you were gonna come back or that you were real. He didn't find out until you were in the paper one week, the front page actually. He had nearly killed me that night. He was afraid, I think of you. That you would come back and find him. I don't remember much after he left. I was unconscious for almost a week. My landlady had found me the next day apparently. She's nice."

Molly was quiet for a bit after that. Sherlock figured she had dozed off again. She hadn't, she just didn't want to open her eyes. She liked this moment.

"A part of me fears that I'll find you like how you try not describe...how he left you. I have nightmares about it." He didn't know if she could hear but he had to say it. It needed to be said.

They just lay there after that. Molly slept again with her hold on Sherlock and he just tried to think of a way to make a move as John said. He couldn't really do anything out there.

The following morning Molly woke up alone in her bed but she didn't really think much of it. He was always gone when she woke up. She walked out to the front of her flat thinking that she would need to go make her coffee and maybe some toast when she literally was shocked into alertness.

Sherlock was sitting at her small circular table nibbling on a chocolate biscuit. There were two place settings.

She just kinda stayed behind the corner for awhile trying to figure out if it was real - any of it. She could recollect a little of the night and it made her blush out of embarrassment.

"Morning Molly." She looked at him again to see that he had shifted slightly and was staring at her. She had a feeling he knew she was there the entire time. She hadn't exactly been quiet.

She walked over to the table slowly. "What's this?"

"Ah. Breakfast unless you aren't hungry. Though you most likely are. You only had a sub yesterday. You need to eat."

"Did I hit my head last night or am I supposed to be the one commenting on your eating habits?"

"I am eating. See." He mumbled as he took another bite out of his biscuit.

Molly groaned at him before sitting down in front of him and taking a sip from her coffee. It was exactly how she liked it. She smiled at him after placing her cup back down.

"Have you changed your views then?"

"What are you on about, Molly?" Sherlock frowned after gulping down a bit more of his coffee.

"You're being very domestic this morning, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock just shook his head before standing. "Get dressed. We're going out."

"Dear me. Where exactly?"

"A surprise. Wear something you will be able to run in."

Molly just gave him a curious look before getting up and walking past him only to come back and get on her toes and give him a peck on the cheek.

Sherlock just stood there half flustered and half confused.

Women.


	19. The Web That Lies

It takes a moment for a memory to flicker, it takes an action to bring it back. Then it takes a second for the feeling in the memory to remain with you until it disappears. Fear is nearly always a component and the most hardest one to dissolve.

Sherlock Holmes sees this better than anyone in his companion today Molly as they are faced with a bit of a problem in the area they stumbled upon. Sherlock hadn't anticipated anything. He hadn't really had a plan, though it had appeared otherwise.

He really had just wanted to take a walk with her. There was no true destination, they had just been roaming around. It hadn't been until they reached a section of grass that led into a wooded area had anything really changed. Molly had decided she wanted to go into the trees and take a trek.

It almost made him remember that day in academy when they were searching for things for the final project. The conversation they had was on his mind. It always came back to him at the most opportune times.

He pulled her to him before she could walk ahead into the dark area of the woods. "Listen to me, Molly. If there is anything to happen...anything at all and you lose contact with me for whatever reason I want you to run and get out of there. I'll be able to figure that out for myself but right now I want things to be clear. You need to do this, do you understand?"

Molly didn't need to ask because she already knew that Sherlock kept a lot of things to himself. He had a feeling that something was to go wrong her and she felt that she knew why. When they first met and spoke more than him telling her to stop grieving he mentioned what dangers lie within the woods. She remembered how irritated he had been that she had been so stupid as to eat lunch by it. She never really thought to ask if bad things ever happened to him there.

She almost wanted to ask now. There was a look in his eyes that told her that now wasn't the time. Molly nodded and smiled at him as she twisted the hand he had grabbed until it was touching his wrist. He seemed calm.

Sherlock had seemed to stop staring at her like he was thoroughly concerned and instead looked down at her fingertips grazing his wrist, feeling his pulse. It felt very odd for him to be on the receiving end of that, it was usually the other way around. In fact he had done it to her a few times before.

He wondered if she could tell that he actually didn't mind her touching him there on anywhere at all. He was good at controlling his heartbeat so there was a chance she didn't know how he was feeling currently. He placed his hand over hers and slowly retracted it from his wrist.

"Let's go."

It was a bit later when Sherlock found himself in a childish game of cat and mouse with the younger doctor. She had dashed off from him and he laughed after her as she goaded him on to come and catch her. He had called after a moment, seeing the way she had gone and rushed after her.

It was as he reached his third minute of looking after her did he begin to feel that something had gone amiss. He looked about the ground and along the trees seeing that she had occasionally touched them as she was running. He could still see her footprints in the ground and he picked up his momentum following them until he found himself in a clearing.

If this didn't trigger a bad feeling he wasn't sure what would. He slowed down upon finding her but she wasn't alone. Two others with him, one they both knew unfortunately whereas one was a loss to Sherlock.

"Sherly dear, it's nice for you to join us." Sherlock didn't stand beside Molly, nor did he choose to stand behind her. Instead he pulled her by the arm and put her hehind him as he faced someone quite irritating and dangerous all in the same being.

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd take the time to have a reunion between the three of us. Though I guess four is a party too. Have you noticed the link between your girlfriend and my boyfriend yet, or are you still too flustered by me to notice it?" James smiled one of his sly smiles that Sherlock usually felt the urge to deck him for.

He ignored that as he focused on the man that was standing just near enough Jim to seem possessive. That was fine because Sherlock didn't like James anyway. He had become more of a handful than before as of late.

Sherlock turned back to see what James wanted him to see and nearly stilled at the sight of the mirror image of the small girl he saw there. She looked pale and her hands were shaking. She was afraid of that man. Sherlock took his time to observe every little tremble on her person only stopping when he locked eyes with her.

This was him. The man who nearly killed her, the one that was supposedly afraid of Sherlock. That didn't fit the image now. Not this man that was standing there across from them. "You lied to her." Sherlock started slowly as his gaze flitted over to the larger man with the sandy brown hair and the maliciously green eyes.

"Excuse me?" The man's gruff voice spoke suddenly. His eyes shifted from trying to take a peek at Molly to the consulting detective before him.

"It's quite clear that I don't scare you, nor does the fact that you also lied about who you were and why you had chosen Molly to date. It's part of his web, not that you didn't know that. You are quite intimate with dear James, it seems." Sherlock's jaw clenched.

"The part that irritates me the most is that you continued the act until you almost committed murder. I'm positive that if John was here he would probably kill you on the spot. Actually, I want to but there is still one more thing I need to know before I go that far. Why didn't you kill her? You're trained in the art of killing, a military man by the looks of you. It must have taken the greatest ounce of resisting on your part for you to not do that. Was it James, here?"

"No." James and the man whom Sherlock still needed a name for both stated at the same time. "I'm afraid, that was all Seb here's doing. I had only given him one order to follow and he did it with a bit of leeway here and there. He's quite good that way. It didn't need to look too forced. I think she liked it for the most part." Moriarty smiled again trying to get a reaction out of Molly.

Sherlock turned back to her then and saw the way she had seemed to stilled. It was her body's way of showing on the outside that she had started to think. That was something Sherlock did not wish to see right now. He needed her to do something different. He needed her to run.

He stood in front of her not literally caring that his display was on for show. He needed her to not be here for this. It was about to get worse.

He sighed as he reached out and framed her face with his hands and made sure she was looking at him, not the ground as he spoke quietly to her. "I need you to get out of here. Ignore every fiber in your being that screams for you to do something wreckless. I need you to get somewhere safe. I know you know I've been not sharing myself with you at all. There's something that I need to do before I can share that bit with you. Go to John and tell him what you know. He knows what to do. I'll find you again. Be careful, Molly." He stated as his head was pressed his head against hers and closed his eyes. "Go." He whispered.

Molly knew just like before they entered the web of the forest there was no time to be playing games. Sherlock barely ever touched her, not unless it was necessary. She could feel the way his hands grazed her skin. It was cool as his hands always were but there was this part of her that felt the heat that was most likely coming from his adrenaline rushing through his veins.

She could feel hers rushing too and as such she felt inclined to leave him with one more confusing thought. She stood on her toes and just as she could faintly remember doing the previous night, she kissed him. It didn't last very long, just enough to make it clear that it did happen for real this time as they were both awake. She stepped away then without deciphering his reaction again and she turned and ran in the direction she had come.

Only one thing was on her mind now: _find John Watson._

When Sherlock turned back to face his rival in all sense of the word he felt his face grow cold along with the rest of his body. Seb - the man who had nearly killed Molly was gone and only James Moriarty was left there clapping. "I've always enjoyed a good show Sherlock, you've been doing quite well so far it seems. I suppose you and I acquired different tastes in nearly everything now didn't we? I was fairly certain Irene Adler was the woman who kept you on your toes, but she lacks a few things doesn't she? My mistake. I think you've found a quite acceptable match, although she is rather dull."

James did a little twirl as if he was an aeroplane. "I've started my own web of crimes you know. You really do know though don't you, Sherlock. It's why you left in the first place wasn't it. Academy life was always too boring though you did begin a puzzle of a different kind before leaving only you picked it back up again when you saw it was convenient. You and I are the same that way. You couldn't figure out Molly Hooper from the distance of America so you came back."

"That is not true." Sherlock huffed, curling his hands. He didn't like a lot of the things that were coming out of James Moriarty mouth.

"Oh? It isn't of course, no that wouldn't be acceptable to someone as brilliant as you think you are. Lower to a level so human as needing the companionship of a mere woman who isn't exactly near your playing field wasn't something you liked accepting. It's a weakness. Your biggest weakness. You care about her more than you've cared for anyone else before." James yawned as if he was bored of this conversation already but he didn't stop, he was not finished yet.

"I've watched you closely from the first moment I made her acquaintance back at the big home of the Holmes. She was quite naive and I didn't understand. No, it didn't seem plausible that it would work. I didn't stood looking. I had people around you for so long without you noticing. It was quite fun for awhile then you decided to leave. Not because what I was doing was more interesting, no you weren't aware that that was me yet. You were close. This has to do with Molly. It always has hasn't it? You felt strange wanting her there because she could see you. She really could see you. It bothered you didn't it, Sherlock?"

"SHUT UP." Sherlock yelled as he rushed towards this man. He really was the devil.

James just laughed. "The story is not over though is it? You came back home to London and found her again. The first day was my favorite part. Watching you lose focus as you kissed her to play a part. You weren't truly playing a part there. You wanted to kiss her and you did. That bit was quite spicy, let me tell you. It's coming to a close though Sherlock isn't it? The lies will catch up to us both and what will be there to catch us when we fall. We will fall, that is guaranteed. It'll be fun darling, as it always is."

He turned as if he was about to leave but he turned his head back with a wicked grin. "I believe this is the part where you run after your damsel in distress. It's about to get hot in here. I will enjoy this a lot. I like to see you dance, so dance lover. This is only part one of the burning...I promised you would burn."

He snapped his fingers and Sherlock saw the flames before he heard the laughter. "I think you have fifteen minutes until it happens. Go on. Molly doesn't like fire. She almost died in one once before you met here. Such a sad story. I would run...NOW!"

He could see a silhouette of the devil in Westwood but didn't stare long as he ran. He had to find Molly. Quickly.


	20. The Unraveling of the Core

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This disaster binds us absolute, a thousand lies you tell yourself_
> 
> _That no one ever loved you right_
> 
> _Ooo, but I would do anything for you_
> 
> \- **Key Entity Extraction I: Domino The Destitute by Coheed & Cambria**

Her sense of direction was off, Molly realize after a time of running around the wooded area. Everything looked so similiar. It was very discerning for her to think she could get out of there on her own. She was sure she had went back the way she came. Then again directions weren't really her area. Neither was getting away from things...or people.

That thought left a bad taste in her mouth as the image of the smirking man that she had thought she had gotten rid of those months ago filtered into her vision. She began to back track hurriedly. This was not good.

His laugh mocked her as she got around another set of trees. There was no telling whether she had been this way or not. She had more pressing matters to attend to. Like running for instance. She may not know the man as well as well as she once thought but she never forgot what he had left of her. He was the cause for much of her wariness towards not only John and Sherlock but men in general.

There's only so much a woman can tolerate before she cracks again. Him being so close was not comforting in the slightest. In turn it just made these terrors of anxiety flare up even more. The not knowing if he was right behind her or a few steps ahead was making her feel very claustrophobic. It was if the walls were closing in but really it was just a person closing in on her. One large man who she knew could hurt her.

It was then as she was feeling the most adrenaline coursing through her veins did she do something both incredibly stupid and very Molly at the same time. She tripped on a twisted vine that was embedded in the floors of the moist ground. Her body reacted more harshly than she anticipated and she felt something twist the wrong way in her right leg. She let out a gasp as she went to roll away. That was when things grew even worse, if possible. In the world of Molly Hooper everything seemed to be that way inevitably.

There was a tug, a very strong tug on her leg and then she was screaming not only because that hurt due to that being the leg that had just twisted the wrong way when she tripped because the hand that was grasping that leg was way too rough to be the one of the two she needed it to be. Considering John Watson was nowhere around here and Sherlock Holmes was as far as she knew having a little dance with James. There was only one person that could be.

As she was forced towards his form and shoved around she could see the malice once again in those eyes of his. She almost cried on the spot as he positioned himself directly over her. He was practically crushing her. That was not scared her the post, though it probably should be. It was his face.

His face exactly the same as it had always been. Tanned but stern as he was determined to have things go his way. They always went his way and Molly hated that it may happen again. She was not a strong person. Apart from grabbing large bags of flour and sugar at the grocery store she did little to strength herself. Her profession didn't really require it of her.

"Hello sweets. Have you missed me?" Seb didn't give Molly a chance to answer nor did she really want to as he had her caged in that way. The only thing that was keeping him from whispering those words in her ear was her hands which were shakily pushing against his shoulders feebily keeping him away from her. He was still on her however. His bottom half was still all over her and what she could feel gave her a real fright. This was really bad.

"I've missed you. I have, I must admit. You're much different than Jim...in a good way I suppose. You always reacted and look you still do!" He chuckled as he squeezed the hip he had his hand on. Molly tried to look away from him. This wasn't something she wished to relive again. She could feel it was about to happen again.

Seb reached out and grabbed her face with his other hand and made her look back at him. "Hey! No, don't do that! This is a different game my dear Molly. We aren't together ..."

Molly face changed into that look of wariness that she often found herself expressing the mornings after she had lived through another night of brutality by this man. He had always been gone when she slipped away to soak herself in a warm bath and cry. She broke her silence at that moment more so to correct him than because she wished to speak with him. She didn't wish to be anywhere near him. "You're wrong." Her voice was quiet but she saw the change in his demeanor move quickly.

"Excuse me? What am I wrong about?" She could feel the lower half of him move against her and she felt that problem again. She shut her eyes for a moment to will away the bile that was rising up because of this situation. She did not want this.

Molly eyes opened again after a few seconds and she spoke again. "We were never together as your friend was so nice to inform us all."

His face twisted into a grin. It was not a happy gesture it was more of an expression that read 'you're-right-about-that'. Molly swallowed the moisture that had risen up in her throat as she watched him move back a mere second and she was going to try to twist from under him. She was going to try. But he didn't give her a chance. That was nothing new, there was a never a chance of escape with this man. There never was.

The blade spoke more volumes than any other statement that could have been uttered. However that didn't stop Seb from uttering it as he leaned back over her truly scaring the life out of her as he laid the sharp curved blade against the side of her head beginning at her temple. "This is where the fun begins, darling."

-0-

Sherlock had to calm himself down after the fifth minute had passed. He knew that was most important beside the obvious. He had been to this place before. The woods were different from the ones back at the academy but had the same qualities. It was a dark place with many twisting passages that could either lead home or to the darkening deaths of the night.

He stopped moving just for a second and closed his eyes as he mapped it out again in his head. There was no way she got out. That variable of the missing Seb was still a threat that he had to worry about. Sherlock opened his eyes and looked about the ground and along the trees for any break in it's homeostasis. His vision seemed to work better in the dark as he slowly walked more into the trees. There were little things that he could see.

The brushing of crushed leaves on the ground by someone running past it, the spreading of moss on the tree as someone took refuse beside it - most likely hiding. These things made him begin to run in that direction. He knew it had to be right when he continued to see more of it as he continued along the twist of another row of trees. He followed it closely knowing he was getting closer as it began to get smaller.

He stopped as the trail ended and cursed. There was nothing there. He sighed as he turned west the only other way to turn in that area without going back the way he came. His eyes searched for any sign as he continued to seeking for his friend. How far had she had to go?

Not only was he thinking of this. There were the flames that were beginning to grow wider and closer to his back. He didn't have to turn back to know that it was right on his tail. He could feel it. Hellish? Indeed.

Just when he was reaching that twelve minute mark he saw her shoe. It was by itself but he looked at the way it was lying on the ground and saw that it had been kicked off. He couldn't be entirely sure but he could see what had happened. Without much thinking he grabbed it and kept running.

Two minutes remaining...

It became more of a blur upon finding her. He had grabbed her by the waist and tossed her over his shoulder without much warning. She was saying something but he chose to ignore it as they were cutting it close here. They still had to get out of there.

"Burning...Sherlock...down...woods...flames ...SHERLOCK!" These were small fragments of words that he could pick up on through the wind as he rushed through miles of trees and vines trying to get to the outside. He didn't stop until he was sure they had gotten a bit further from the flames and he put her safely on the ground on her feet. It was then that he notice problem on Molly's person. First it was the way her face scrunched up as she winced, then she reached out for his arm for support. He before he got down to her leg he saw the cut along her face. It had been carved quickly. He couldn't inspect her more at the moment so without saying anything again he swooped her into his arms and took off in the right direction.

He had been doing a bit of multitasking in his head while deducing her. They had been fairly close to the exit. It took another seven minutes to get there and with a little more running he tumbled over. Not because he was tired. It was the smoke that swept over in those last minutes. He choked as he sat up and peeked over at Molly. She had tears in her eyes.

When he could breathe a little easier he resorted to asking the question he should have asked when he had found her. "Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question. He knew she was clearly not okay but that didn't mean he couldn't not ask. Not getting direct answers was what got him in this mess in the first place. Molly had shut her eyes for a moment before looking over at him with a half hearted smile lazily on her face. "I think you know the answer to that. Call John." She added as an afterthought as she shut her eyes again.

He leaned over just to make sure she was still breathing and pressed his fingers against the side of her neck. There was a pulse.

Sherlock sighed as he picked his phone out of his pocket and called his best friend. They talked for a few seconds before John agreed to come to them. There were many people staring at him and Molly but he didn't pay much attention as he watched the flames engulf the few lingering trees that had been left untouched.

He reached out absentmindly and grasped Molly's hand. "He was right, you know. I do care more than I ever wished to. This time it happened to not cost me much. It's dangerous for you to be associated with me. You don't have to be."

He felt a small squeeze on his hand and he looked down at her to see her with one eye opened. She spoke quietly. "I know. That's why I want to be. If that's okay."

Sherlock just squeezed her hand as they were summoned with many questions by their best friend, John Watson. Always the worrier, he is.


	21. Of Tricks & The Real Treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. This was written for Halloween of last year and now its christmas. Ha ha awkward. Hope you enjoy anyways :)

Halloween isn't really thought of as much of a holiday for people who were somewhat in a relationship like Sherlock and Molly kind of were. They were still not officially together but they had an understanding that only the two of them truly understood. John Watson certainly couldn't figure it outood them ever except in the beginning. That had been simple. These new developments were anything but basic. Far from elementary but it was good.

John was due to go back for another tour the following week and this would be one of the lasts times he would be spending with his friends. It made this night even more special for that.

The trio had been watching a horror flick marathon that was on the television since early on in the week. They all were sitting on Molly's small but comfy couch to watch the fear fest. It was of a film that John had seen almost every Halloween and Sherlock had just now got his first view of and he was very enthralled. As enthralled as he could be when he was shouting at the "morons" that were soon to be victims about not running for their lives when it was obvious that they were about to be slaughtered by the masked killer.

Molly was doing double duty tonight with the doorbell ringing every so often with children from her building coming along with costumes and smiles saying a very customary greeting to get one of the small handfuls of candies that Molly and John had went to get earlier on in the day while Sherlock was in his head thinking about God's knows what.

Sherlock had to yell every time Molly left the spot where she was comfortably sitting between her two guys and a killing was going on. He had begun to count how many times she had gotten up. It had gotten to a resounding 27 times when Sherlock caught her by the wrist before she venture over to the door and pulled her onto his lap.

It was very weird for him to have her that close. It was very intrusive to his person but this was a bit of a desperate measure now. She had been missing the important moments of the movies. The next in the series was about to begin. "Sherlock. I have to get the door." Molly sighed as she folded her arms while trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

John watched in amusement as the two both wore different expression. Molly looked annoyed whereas Sherlock looked like he was confused on what he was should do. One of his arms was wrapped her Molly's waist. It looked awkward and out of place.

To John this wasn't exactly surprising. The most he had observed Sherlock do in interaction was hold hands and that wasn't all that often. It was very rare but it was clear that I wanted to do it at times. He just doesn't know if it is wanted or correct.

"John. Get the door."

"What?" John called while Molly rolled her eyes at Sherlock.

"I can get it." Molly said.

"No. You are going to watch this movie without interruption. With me." He added as if that should have already been known.

His grip on her waist tightened as he swung her legs around and placed her right beside him as she once were. John sighed before getting up and heading for candy duty. He smiled kindly at the kids as he handed out candy and complimented on some of their getups.

He turned back to his two friends and smiled at the two of them as he saw that they did look very cosy at the moment. He stood at the door as another ring of the bell sounded and he greeted more kids.

Back on the couch Molly had grabbed a pillow that was always on her couch and held it as another girl was slashed to bits. Her head severed from the body and her arms cut off. She tried to not to cringe at the aftermath but it was pretty gory. She may be a pathologist but she didn't really like seeing such horrible things happen.

Sherlock continued to point out all the reasons why the victims ended their lives. No, in his mind the killer was not at fault. It was the victims for doing things that would keep them off guard like having sex or run out into the woods by themselves. Idiots.

It was about the middle of the movie when Sherlock's phone signalled that he had a call to take. Molly sighed and scooted over knowing he and John were about to have to leave. It would be stupid to think that one night at home would stop the evil of the night from brewing even on a night as this.

John went down to go hail a cab while Sherlock began to stand up. He turned to Molly who eyes had adverted to her fingers picking the strands off the frays of her pillow. He frowned as he spoke. "You should finish the movie. I want to know what happens though I have a good idea that it'll just end in another cliffhanger to continue into another film."

"You want me to watch a horror movie by myself, are you insane?"

"It's just a film, Molly."

"Yeah. Sure. Fine." It was clear that it was not fine but Sherlock heard another beep from his phone.

"I need to go. I'll be back."

"Of course. Go." Molly didn't look at him at all as she went back to the killer on the screen who held a machete in his hand and was going after another victim. She heard the sound of the door closed but she paid no mind to it as she watched the film that she didn't even want to watch in the first place. She had enough nightmares to last for a lifetime. She didn't need to witness more even if it wasn't real.

...

Molly had grown tired of the movies after the fourth one where the masked psychopath was brought back by some Frankenstein method with lightning and a rod stuck in his body. There seemed to be no way to stop him now. Now she had found her bedroom a nice solace to fall asleep in without worrying about anyone coming after her. This was why she didn't watch horror movies that much. They gave her insane notions that had a slight reality to them. She never liked that.

Sherlock had snuck back into her apartment a couple moments ago. He noticed that it was pitch black in the vicinity so he tossed his jacket across the back of the sofa before walking towards the small bedroom where Molly lay curled up on her side snoozing away.

He retreated for just a second to go get a little thing that he thought would smooth over their small argument that he really didn't understand completely that happened before he left. I laid down next to her and wasn't completely surprised when he heard Molly speak to him. She hadn't been the heaviest of sleepers lately.

"Don't ever make me watch one of those wretched movies again by myself again. Just so you know Sherlock, I hate them but I watched them anyway."

"Why would you do that?" It baffled him.

"First you forced me to and then I was annoyed at you for leaving again. You'd think that criminals would take an evening off."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Molly opened her eyes and smiled at him. "I forgot who I was talking to. Why'd you come back?"

"I said I would, Molly. Besides you were angry with me. I didn't want it weighing on my conscience that I had upset you enough that you'd stop speaking to me. It bothered me." He confessed slowly.

"Is that what scares you, Sherlock?" Molly looked up at him.

"It is one of many thing that I would not be okay with, I suppose." Molly scoffed at him before she had something placed in her hand.

"What's this?" Molly sat up as she felt the small object in her hand. It felt round but pointy at the same time. It also shined a little in the darkness of the night.

"A treat." Was his simple reply as he watched Molly unseal the piece of candy. It was a chocolate kiss and he figured she would like it. She liked sweets.

A smile curved along her cheeks as she looked over at him. "You gave me a kiss. Sort of." Molly giggled before plopping the small treat into her mouth and savoring the taste.

"Yes. Did you like it?" Sherlock tried not to show that he was amused by this.

"Sure but I think this is a little bit better." Molly leaned over and kissed him softly before moving back. Sherlock obviously wasn't all that willing to leave it at that because he soon pulled her down and began giving her kisses in several different places.

A real treat, indeed.


	22. Everything But You / Subtraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A two part chapter. Lyrics by Coheed & Cambria and Alex Goot.

 

_You're like a drug to me_

_and there's no remedy_

_except for hitting the ground_

_when I contemplate all the things I need_

_know there's one thing I'm still without_

 

Alex Goot

_**everything but you…** _

John Watson had never had to deal with something like this before. He had heard of cases like this but it was usually just one out of two of the people in the relationship. Not both. That just didn't happen. There was a first time for everything, he supposed. It didn't mean he liked it one bit.

It was just his luck to have to deal with this the day before he's supposed to go back to war. His fucking luck. He had managed to get both his best friends in the same area but this was tricky. He couldn't get them to remember everything in one day. They had this weird relationship in the first place. How in the hell was he supposed to help them recollect all that without knowing how the hell it started in the first place.

He didn't even know how it happened. They had been in the same room during the morning as far as he knew. Sherlock had slept over at Molly's again. He never pried when it came to the things the two had done but it hadn't been hard to see the moment he met up with him back at the flat that he had been calling home on Baker Street that something more happened the previous night. Sex between his best friends.

He didn't want to think about that. It just felt weird. Everything was still so weird. First it was just that one kiss and now sex. He needed a drink. If it hadn't been weird before the fact that the two of them couldn't remember each other now at four o'clock in the afternoon sure as hell wasn't good at all. Not good, in the slightest.

Molly Hooper was sitting in the same room with a man she had been told on several instants so far just within the past five hours she was quite familiar with. They had a history, she figured. She just didn't remember it. Memories were tricky things, she guessed. She picked her head up and stared cautiously at the man whom she had heard her friend – John Watson call Sher-lock. He shouted him a lot. He knew him as well then? This was all so very irritating.

"John…I don't understand what you want me to do. I don't know who she is and I'm pretty sure she doesn't know who I am either. There is nothing to fix here, clearly." Sherlock said as he stood up in a hurry.

"John never lies to me about something. If he says I know you, then I do. It's your fault for not remembering. Maybe I just wasn't that important to you. It happens a lot." Molly mouth curved into a barely there smile.

"Blame me, of course." Sherlock huffed as looked at the woman. She was nothing special at first glance. There were small things that he noticed that seemed like he had seen before, but where? Was she really not that important? Then why was John being so difficult about it. He deletes things every day. Unimportant data has to be deleted.

"Hey! No one is at fault, at the moment. We just have to figure this out. What happened this morning?" John sighed as he sat down in on the sofa that was nearby. He had been pacing for a bit trying to think of ways to figure this out. It had done him no good.

People don't just forget each other. Especially people that counted on both ends. Molly Hooper and Sherlock Holmes were not ordinary by any standards. He was the brains and an arrogant idiot and she was the half that kept the balance. Molly was the clever one who knew when to bring out the niceness out of the man. She herself was a person who excelled in her area as he did in his own. Their lives crossed more often than not here in London with their jobs. They have to remember, John found himself pleading to the high heavens for some sort of miracle upon being set with mere silence after asking a question.

No more than ten seconds later John did remember something. Memory did not only connect with sight but with touch as far as he knew. Maybe that would work. He stood up again and walked over to the middle of the room pulling the much taller detective with him. He gestured for Molly to come over as well. She did with a little bit of reluctance.

Molly rubbed at her arm as she felt a little twinge of stinging there, along with the fact she felt cold standing near the man who she was supposed to know. The fact that he was glaring at her might have had something to do with that fact too. He just gave her an uneasy feeling for some reason. She didn't think it was totally because of his obvious distaste with her all together. There was something else.

There was confliction in his eyes that she could see. Was it something that she had unknowingly done? He said he didn't remember her but was he lying? She wouldn't put it past him to be capable of doing that. He looked like the type always got what he wanted. She mulled that over for a few seconds before John started talking and that pulled her out of her reverie.

"I won't claim to know much how either of your minds work or how the hell any of this happened but I do know that when it comes to the senses touching can give the most intense effect. I just want to try it and see if something happens. Like an experiment or test for instance. There has to be a way." John breathed as his eyes flickered from both of them. Molly seemed more relaxed where Sherlock looked like he was about to protest again. However before anything else could be said John moved away from them for a second and then gave Molly a shove. It wasn't that hard but it was enough for her to stumble and something to happen.

Whether it was out of instinct or a reflex, whatever it was something did happen. Sherlock had reached out and grabbed Molly by the shoulders much like he did a few times before when he wanted to get her attention. However this time he was making sure she didn't fall. It was something, John thought.

John expected nothing to happen. It was just a guess but then they started looking at each other and there was a small lull of silence before Molly just retorted with a small "thank you" before straightening up. John wasn't an idiot however. Something had flashed between them just then. Was it a memory? Or was it nothing? He couldn't be sure.

Sherlock was still staring at her after she moved away from him. John had seen that twinkle in his eyes before. He often had it when he was thinking of something. "Well?" John asked as Sherlock turned back in his direction and sobered up a bit as if nothing had changed.

"I hardly think that helped much. What do you think, Miss Hooper?" Sherlock muttered glancing in her direction as she began to put her coat on. John gave her a curious look. "Where are you going Molls?"

"I have work in the morning. I can't do this right now. Whatever this is, if this is anything. I need to get some rest. I'm sure Mr. Holmes can figure it out on his own."

"Both of you are idiots. The last thing I want when I'm going off to Afghanistan again is to be subjected to worry about two morons who won't even take a night off to fix something that shouldn't have happened in the first place. Why do you keep rubbing your arm? Did you hurt it?" John asked suddenly as he began walking towards Molly.

"Not as far as I can remember which obviously isn't much today. It just itches a little. I'm sure I'm fine."

"She says that a lot doesn't she? Clearly she is not fine. For fucks sakes let me see it. I had noticed it briefly as she came to meet me in the middle." Sherlock said as he grabbed for Molly's arm when he grew near her and John. He turned it around and saw he problem area. It was beginning to swell and was redder than it should be. Whether that was from her rubbing it constantly or it was because of the fact that there was an injection indention there. Whichever, it was still a problem.

"I need your tools, John. It could be a sting or it could be from a vaccination. Possibly poison. The area has all the appearance of many things. I'd like to take a closer look."

Molly pulled her arm back while shaking her head. "No, last time I checked you weren't a doctor. John is the only one besides me who can help me. I don't need yours, Mr. Holmes."

"Would you stop calling me that? My name is Sherlock; I am not your superior. You can call me that you know?" He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. She was aggravating him.

"Sherlock, I don't need your help. I am fine."

"Every time you say that you're lying."

"If you know so much then tell me why I'm supposedly lying." Molly said as she balled her hands into fists and shoved them in her pockets.

"Where to start? Hm…the basics will do. You don't think you are fit to be friends with someone who has such loving parents as John Watson clearly. You lost your father not so recently whereas your mother died when you still were at the academy with the good doctor. You never had looks to be deemed as wanted or popular but you got by just fine with the right grades. You excelled enough to get into a wonderful medical school and moved here upon getting a job at Bart's most likely as it's the only hospital within the radius of your apartment. You used to date a man who lied to you about he was and knocked you around a bit it doesn't take a genius to see the scars that you still have mentally and physically. You didn't do such a good job at hiding the one near your collar bone."

John had grown tired of telling Sherlock to knock it off so it was more than happy when the teary eyed and furious woman slapped him, hard on the face eliciting a curse from the detective and him to be sent back a couple of feet.

"You are a piece of work Mr. Holmes. I am very happy to not be the one to call you my boyfriend let alone, friend. Your brain is the only thing that you have working for you I'm sure. Oh and money by the way you dress. I am quite happy to have a friend like John Watson but you are right I am pretty much alone as it seems. It'd be grand if you didn't feel the need to insult me anymore. I think I've had enough of that for a lifetime."

She turned to John then and reached up to peck his cheek before walking out the door with a loud slam sounding on her way out. The nerve of him thinking that Molly Hooper was just going to take something like that sitting down. She was not some child that didn't know her nail from her thumb. She was a very clever woman who didn't take shit from anyone. Not anymore.

Slapping him felt good, she mused as she began walking down the street. The outside seemed more familiar than she realized and soon she found herself right where she had hoped to be long after her shift when John had pleaded with her to come over for a bit. He had had something he wanted to talk to her about. It couldn't be done over coffee and it couldn't have been done during the time she had break. She had to meet someone. It was important he said.

It hadn't been. If that was the last day she ever was graced with the presence of the attractively arrogant arse named Sherlock Holmes, it would be too soon.

It was too soon the following day during her second shift of the day when they crossed paths again. Molly was about to yell at him. She did not want to deal with him again. She couldn't. He was such an irritating person. "I'm here to analyze something for a case. Do you think you could not be you for five minutes while I do that?" He asked as he unbutton his coat and began hanging it up.

"I've found that I don't really have a choice in the matter when it comes to you and the morgue. You have some sort of clearance."

He was hovering over her when she heard him say the next words. She could practically feel his breath on her neck as he spoke to her. "You gave them to me, Doctor." Molly turned around on the stool she was filling out paperwork on and gave him a look.

"What are you on about? Why would I ever do that?"

He shrugged before reaching over her, grazing her shoulder in the process and muttering, "I happen to be quite persuasive. I have to be for my line of work."

"What is that exactly? You said you're on a case." Molly said slowly trying to focus on her breathing. She should not feel this overwhelmed by him. He was only a man who did have some nice looking qualities but still just a man. She still didn't know who he was.

"Have I intrigued you, Miss Hooper?" He asked as he grabbed the clean slide from where he was reaching and came back with it in his hand. "Does that mean you'll let me see what was on your arm or do I need to forcibly have a look? I can do force." He winked at her and Molly shoved him away as she went back to her paperwork.

"Do what you came here to do, then leave. I don't need you."

"I have a feeling you need me as much as I need you."

Molly scoffed and rolled her eyes as she flipped to the next page on her paperwork. She just needed to sign a few more sheets before she could leave. She wanted to leave so badly. He was driving her up the wall. This couldn't happen a third day.

"What gave you the idea that I need you? Why would you need me? Or want me?"

"I happen to like finding use for the ones the world shuns away."

"I have not been shunned away. I like it down here. It's quiet."

"See we're getting to know each other. John thinks it shouldn't be necessary that we know, ahem, excuse me, knew everything there is to know about each other. What do you think about that? Did you really know me, Hooper? Or were you just playing a game?"

"I don't play games Holmes. I think that's your area. John told me something before I said goodbye to him a second time."

"A second time? When was the first?"

"My second to last year at the academy. Why are you asking so much?" Molly said quietly as she scribbled her name on the last form.

Sherlock leaned down as he looked over her shoulder at the form she was working on. He knew very little of what she was doing. It all looked like contracts and such, nothing truly of significance. "I do value my friendship with John Watson. He cares for you a great deal and therefore I feel that I owe it to him to get to know the person who could damage that bond. What did he tell you?" He closed his eyes as an interesting scent hit him in a strong wave.

_His hands were tangled in a mess of curls and he was trying to catch his breath. Strawberries intermingled with her scent as he pressed a kiss within the crook of her neck, eliciting a small laugh from her. He slowly buried his head in that place and smiled a small smile. She was quite beautiful for what it was worth in this moment._

"Strawberries." He muttered absentmindedly before he caught himself and moved back and away from her.

"Are you okay?" Molly had turned around to look at him. She looked worried and for a moment he saw a flash of it several times over within different times and moments. Sherlock just nodded but it didn't translate well with how jerky it looked on him. "What were you saying?"

"John said that we were close you and I. Closer than you had ever allowed yourself to be with anyone of the female species before. He never understood it because we as you said last night I am not like you. I actually give a damn about the people I care about. You do in your own way, he said. It's hard for me to believe him when you talked to me like that. How could we be close when you treated me that way? The last thing he said and it stayed with me for a while before I had to come in for my first shift was that  _"Sherlock is a git but he is a git that doesn't forget people he cared about. He cared about you in a way that made him think before he did some things. It doesn't mean much now but if you just remember I think you'll understand. You are one of the lucky ones, Molly. That is why you count, even if he doesn't remember it."_ That's it." Molly said carefully before she turned around, grabbed her paperwork and left him there.

Sherlock hadn't noticed. Not beyond the words that had been spoken by his best friend. John Watson knew more about him than he let other see. Molly said that he never lied to her. That went the same way for Sherlock Holmes as well. The man always spoke from his heart even when it might fall on deaf ears. Sherlock hadn't been there when John said goodbye to Molly but he was listening now. There were so many clues in that bit he had said. It was time to just work it out. It's what he did best.

_You gave your all_

_But you gave it once_

_A lesson that you thought_

_You could teach it when you want_

_Subtract me from your hear_

_Little take away girl_

Coheed & Cambria

_**subtraction…** _

They spent three weeks apart. Sherlock felt that it was only right to do that so that things would be in order upon their true reunion. There were things that were fuzzy to him but he ignored it for a little while. His injection mark happened to be at the back of his neck. He had had to focus for five hours for all of it to slowly come back to him.

There was someone waiting for him as he exited Molly's apartment after waking up by himself. She had left a note for him, he remembered reading it and shaking his head at her awkward ways of saying that she was sorry that she had to leave him. She had work. A blow to the head and then a sharp needle to his neck. It wasn't their intention to completely screw up his memories just the ones that coincided with Molly. It was in the drug they had used. If they really wanted to impair him they would have used something special to shatter his temporal lobe. Instead they went for the neck.

He wasn't sure who it could be. He had plenty of enemies. He couldn't just pick one in particular. There were two who had problems with both Molly and he. He wasn't sure if it was them. James had a particular fascination with drugs but it usually followed with something else. Something with a big bang. This was merely temporary.

He had to get Molly to re-familiarize herself with him first before he went any further. He would find out who had done this. John had been correct in his deduction that they did both care equally for each other. He remembered what he had said to Molly the night when John was trying to do his part as their friend and fix this. He wasn't being nice or what she would remember of him.

He did remember the gala that Molly was attending tonight as a part of the hospital's annual event. It was important, he remembered. He dressed nicely as he usually did. The only difference being his mindset this night. It was scattered as well as focused on what was to happen. There wasn't much he could do apart from surprise her and do things that would help her remember him. She couldn't have completely forgotten him.

She looked bored when he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the floor without much of a question of if she wanted to or not. He knew she would argue with him. He knew she didn't like to dance. It had been one of the memories he remembered the most. It was the only one to not get the attention of nearly everyone. Plenty of people were dancing, that wouldn't be a problem.

"What are you doing?"

"Dance with me." He muttered as he pulled her close to him and caught one of her hands in his all the while looking at her. "You look beautiful tonight." He whispered as he began to sway just a little bit. He wasn't in the mood to dance really; he just needed to have her close to him for this to work.

"Sherlock. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. I remembered a few things about our situation." He struggled that last bit out. He hadn't been all that sure how he was going to phrase it.

"What was our situation?"

Sherlock let his mind sift through all the things that he could possibly say in response to that question and none of them sounded quite good coming from his mouth. It wasn't something he would say. Nor did he feel comfortable with it. So, he went with a less polite version and told the truth. "The last thing we did consciously together was sex. It was glorious, in case you needed to know."

"How can I believe that when I can't even remember our first conversation ever? That is of course if what you say is true." Molly looked confused.

"You were crying the first time I officially talked to you for more than a few seconds. Your father had just died and you were coming back to the academy. You were my lab partner and we had an assignment to do together. It wasn't always like that but I needed you and you were upset. I told you that everybody grieved but they always had to move on. I gave you my only handkerchief so that you could wipe your face then you kissed me…" He smiled as he saw her blush.

"It was on the cheek, you idiot. Don't be so smug about it." Molly said confidently.

Sherlock bypassed the other memories as he pressed his mouth against her forehead firmly as his arms wrapped around her waist. "The first time you kissed me in any way was when we were saying goodbye when you were leaving with John." Molly sighed as she could basically see it again before her eyes. It wasn't physically happening again but Sherlock was trying to get her to remember it again.

"Should we take it outside?" Sherlock mumbled as he moved back and looked down into her muddy brown eyes. She held a lot of emotions there. There were a few tears started to trail there. He didn't like it when she was upset. He was making her upset again.

"I'm not upset." She said quietly. "Yes, we should." She grinned at him as she found his icy blue eyes again. She moved carefully as she slipped her hand in his and they strategically made their way off the floor and out to the exit.

Molly managed to wipe her eyes before being faced with Sherlock again and a wall. He had them blocked off from the rest of the area much like she had remembered him shielding her many times before. He leaned his forehead against hers, his curls brushing against her face as he spoke quietly to her.

"I kissed you for the first time really when we met up again after academy. It had been six years since I had seen you and I had been trying not to think about you. I tried it for six years and it seemed like the perfect situation to see how far I could do that before we had to let go." He trailed his lips against her jaw before catching her lips in a hungry kiss much like the first one when they were being watched. His hands caught hers in a tight link and Molly seemed to react about as much as he remembered she did.

She hesitated for a brief second before realizing what was going on and kissing him back just as desperately as he was feeling. You want someone to remember every moment you've ever shared with them. That's when you know they truly matter and are important. Hell, he wasn't stupid enough to not admit that Molly Hooper wasn't as important as his heart was telling him she was. He hands gripped his tightly as they were entwined.

He could remember one more instance. That couldn't do that out in the open. This was enough for the moment. She did remember him.

"I could never forget you; you're too much of an idiot to let me do that." Molly smiled as she saw the glistening in his blue orbs. He was crying, sort of. Molly laughed as she heard him tell her to shut up.

"Don't you dare tell John about this or bad things will happen, Molly Anne." He struggled a bit before returning to that place in the crook of her neck and breathing all the while letting out a laugh. "You matter to me." He stated before kissing her neck once, twice, thrice.

A new memory to keep sacred was added that night.


	23. The Illusion of a Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is meant to be vague and confusing though the pieces will begin to form within the next one. Hope you like it. :)

The sound of a train chugging its way into the station can be heard as well as the chatter of the hundreds that are waiting nearby to board it. It's nothing unusual for a day at the train station but there is something a little strange. Molly Hooper is among the masses. She looks no different than any other day, but the bag that lays at her feet does give the outside viewer the image that she is merely leaving for an unknown destination. She is no different than the others that are assembled here. That is what she needs everyone to think.

If someone would have told her that she would just leave this city behind she probably would have laughed. However, that doesn't mean that she is laughing now. This is no laughing matter. Nor was anything that has happened over the past three weeks. That is why she is here about to board a train that could literally take her anywhere. It is better this way, she tells herself before she chances a glance around the area to see if anyone is even here to see her off. She knows there isn't. Things have changed drastically. No one is what she has.

Not anyone around here anymore. She stops from thinking of the one person that truly is still here in the city that she wishes was here. That is a stupid thought, there is no way he would consider coming after her. It is supposed to be the other way around, isn't it? Or at least it seems to have been in their little story of whatever it is. She wishes that she could call what they have a love story but really nothing had ever been established. So, why is she still reluctant to leave it all behind?

She smiles at the man who asks for her ticket which she knows has a city in a country much further than she could ever wished of going. Not because she never wanted to go but she has never had the means. She can admit that there were others that have had a play in this misstep in the story - an overly cautious older brother and a caring mother of the man who she kept trying to keep from thinking about now. She knows he is not to blame for this journey she now finds herself on. That would be an idiotic assumption, she knows.

As she finds her way towards the middle of the train in a compartment that is truly all her own, she takes out the envelope that was given to her a few days ago during their last encounter. For a change there is no messy handwriting on the envelope, there is nothing. However, he did tell her to take it and read it when she leaves because he knew that she would.

You see this is what makes it harder for her to open it. This was no easy thing for her to do. Leaving has never been her strong suit. Everyone has seemed to leave her but she would never do that. It is not in her nature. Instead of reading it, she puts it back where she put it upon removing herself from his presence. She shoved it back into her bag and stared out the window as the train began to move.

There is a moment when she swears she sees him standing just beyond the ticket booth that can be seen from the window for the briefest of seconds but she throws the notion out of her mind. That was just silly. There is a brief recollection when she told him that "people do silly things" but she would never put him into the same category as other people. There was no way he could be in the same boat as those people.

She glanced back at her bag for a moment before closing her eyes. This trip would take a little more than a day for her to get to her destination, resting would be just fine. Maybe she could sort out all of her thoughts by that time. This was not an end of anything, Sherlock Holmes was a man who dealt with things in his own way. Within the amount of time he felt was suitable. When that would be? She wasn't sure. She found that being sure about things was not the easy thing when being around someone like him for so long.

Intimidation was one of his better things. She learned that a long time ago, though it didn't exactly help with this issue they were in the midst of at the current time. She could pretend all she wanted to but it wouldn't save her from the truth. Words had been said in front of several people and it was only right that they stop this. Her leaving just made it clearer to the public.

Sherlock had been there for a brief moment. His family had told him that he shouldn't be there to see her off as it would cause more friction between Molly and himself. He didn't think that was possible but in a way he did respect their views. He hadn't approached her and he had kept a safe distance away from her. She hadn't seen him and he was able to see her leave. The latter wasn't something he wasn't sure of why he had to see it. It could be argued that he needed to see that it was actually happening for sentimental reasons. He didn't believe in sentiment but that could be argued as well.

He did several nice things for Molly.

To dwell on something like that wasn't exactly something he should do. Not currently. There was still the time where he had to come to grips with the other part of the equation. There was another bit that they both were leaving to deal with at a later time. Not because the public eye was watching his every move but because being careful was a necessity.

To understand anything you have to be aware of certain facts. One is hidden, two are obvious and the last is simple. For those of you that are smart you may be able to speculate the obvious, however may overanalyze the simple term. I shall give you the simple so you won't have to think too hard.

_It is easier to hide a truth in a lie._

The lie is both a truth and a false statement. It is also rather obvious if you look close enough. Do you see it or did that just confuse you a bit more? Speculate for a little while and I'll get back to you.


	24. Pleasure & Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. This one should give you a bit more clarity I think! Enjoy :)

Sherlock is not a sadist, nor is he a man who can sit idly by when something is ultimately wrong in one way of his life. He is a man of science and logic, someone who would rather find a scientific reason for something occurring than having to touch base with sentiment. Sentiment is foolish, he claims. This is not entirely true even for a man like him. His body has betrayed him more than once before.

The first time instance was upon having to officially speak with her the first time. The incident where he found six years younger and went on a short search for her – Molly Hooper, then a sobbing mess outside the safe doors of the academy. He had been very annoyed at the time and as he had went over this meeting several times before he likes to think it was just an easier route than having to fake his way into making her come along with him. That was all he was doing. He hadn't chosen to play a part, instead being himself without knowing that it would lead to any of this.

Anyone he had once encountered before could vouch for him and say with great detail that he was anything but nice. He did not lie, he was brutally honest as always and somehow it had gotten him a strange acquaintanceship with the auburn haired woman then a slowly intriguing friendship and lastly something he had never dared put a label to. He knew that each element pointed to the obvious but it had never been truly stated verbally nor was any silly contract that bound him to the woman he was making his way back to see now.

Sherlock Holmes would be an idiot to deny the facts. There were several new ones that had been added over the course of just half of a year. Each had it's on subfolder in his mind which he thoroughly found himself combing over as he got a text from the one person he didn't like to trust, but did when it came to his companion. His own brother; Mycroft.

It was only a line but it spoke volumes to him in the few words that he read.

_**It would be best to delay your arrival.** _

Sherlock Holmes expression didn't falter as he stared outside the glass that stood between him and the outside world. A small flick of his thumb hovering over the back key on his phone was the only thing that gave the indication that he had seen anything at all. He pressed it three times before the phone returned to his trousers pocket and he returned to his greatest ally in times of trouble; his mind.

He had been sure that not dwelling there had been best as of late but somehow now it was necessary to go over every single moment that led up to this new conflict he was struggling over. He felt reluctant to do so currently as it wasn't an easy thing for him to do. He was more aware than before how his actions and his lack thereof base within the confines of the relationship he had with Molly had been his undoing. He couldn't bare the thought of the new hurdle, him being not with her when she was in a very unique and dangerous situation.

He shook his head at that notion. It was more than that. He found himself more edgy and unruly when there was that distance. The companionship they shared had been more than a simplistic event. It had become literally everything. Every single thing that had occurred had been because he had become aware that this was becoming a danger zone. However not everything dangerous was bad.

Molly Hooper was anything but bad, she was lovely and caring. He had many more adjectives to add to the group however he had seemed to backtrack to another first time he had shared with the woman. It was anything but innocent but it had been lovely.

_It had been raining, no surprise there. They had just managed to rush back inside the confines of Molly's apartment when Molly reached up and pecked him on the lips. He had been caught off guard but it wasn't as if he disliked it. This wasn't the first time they had kissed. It was one of many, if he could recall._

_He had grasped her by the arm and ducked his head down to kiss her on his own. This one more longer and fierce. He was happy to feel her pressed against him and smiling no less. Molly pulled away after some time mostly to get a little air for Sherlock had been a bit greedy with his affection for the first time. It wasn't everyday that she could get this from him - he knew._

_"Sherlock," She started with her hand curled into his wet coat. "What's gotten into you?" He noticed a glimmer of amusement in her eyes._

_"Nothing at all. You didn't seem to be upset by that. Was I wrong?" His forehead wrinkled a bit as it showed his slight doubt in himself. Only here with Molly could he ever do that freely._

_Molly laughed, "No, of course not. I was just surprised. It was nice." She told him as she felt his arm wrap around her waist, pulling her more in his direction. The smile didn't leave her face even when she found herself pressed against him completely and up against a wall no less. He brushed his lips against her jaw, carefully testing before kissing her once more agonizingly slow. His hands had begun to move slightly up and down her sides. It was all so very different._

_Molly tugged his wet curls in her hand as she arched up to get a better angle of his kiss. He was up to something, that much she was sure of. She didn't feel that it was anything bad but it was incredibly good. Take in the factor that they were both soaking from the rain things were headed in a pretty heated direction._

_It only shifted when Molly felt Sherlock push her off the floor and she could only find one way to stead herself - with her legs quickly securing around his waist and a quick grab of the hand not entangled in his messy locks around his neck. She pulled back just a fraction to look in his eyes, her breathing coming in slow pants and his nearly just as ragged. "Holmes, do you really think this is a good idea?"_

_"Problem?" His head tilted a few degrees to the left, inclining slightly._

_"I would think the fact that we are soaking through our clothes would be one, yes." She nodded as she realized how rational she was being for someone who was just snogging the life of a man she never even considered on her level._

_Her counterpart just laughed with a lopsided grin on his reddened lips and spoke with a bit more eagerness that she figured he was ever capable of. "What even more of a challenge, hold on." He added as he tightened his hold around her elicting a small giggle from Molly as she did as she was instructed, Sherlock heading for the bedroom just down the hall._

Sherlock forced himself to stop thinking about that as the sound of a bell chiming outside of his compartment brought him to his senses. He grabbed for his phone again as he came from the haziness of that time. He opened a blank message and began typing, it was important that he do this before he changed his mind.

_**Send me all you know about it. I want nothing left out. Be quick, please. - SH** _

He was one who rarely slept due to his need to do things constantly. He knew what his parents tried to do when he was a boy. There had been several doctors and specialists who had tried to say he had this or he had that. He hadn't cared nor did he now about what was wrong with him. He was perfectly fine and healthy. He only need a little rest anyway, just enough to function for a few days then there wasn't any issues.

Sitting on a train left him in a state of nothingness. Only being able to use his brain to stimulate his entertainment or lack thereof it. He had known the second time that Molly and he fought over the issue that he couldn't let it keep up this way. He needed to find a solution. It had been quite simple at the time. His brain quickly formulated the idea of getting rid of her just for a bit. To get her to safe place where no one knew about anything and it could get resolved quietly. However, it seemed to have a time limit of time for solving the problem.

Time was ticking, even now as he sat there. He could hear the ticks of a clock in the distance. It was as if it was speeding up not slowing down. It would be most astute if it did the latter. Not because he needed to respect his older brother's wishes but because he was still grasping at straws when it cane to how to deal. This wasn't something he could just push to the side as he did most things.

He did however find the sound of the tracks moving at a rhythm underneath to sound soothing. For him, it had been easier to sleep on it now like any normal person. He could try being normal for once. She had told him a few times that he would find it easier than keeping a face as the person everyone thought him to be. In the end, she had been right he was just a man.

•••

John Watson wasn't sure whether he was happy to see his best friend's face or he wanted to bash it in until he had to be the one to take care of him. Granted, they were nowhere near each other at the moment but he could find a way. He was sitting in an old office that had no air conditioning with a small fan rotating on the desk nearby and the computer screen that was serving as their one way of communication sat before him. John had been more upset when he discovered the one detail that Sherlock had tried to hide from me ascewed at the bottom of the images that had been sent electronically three days ago.

They were all images of someone's brain. He wasn't a neurologist but he had gotten quite used to seeing not good things with the men he came to treat day and night. This was not good either, if anything this was worse. "If I could I'd be right there with her. At least I'd be useful unlike you. What the hell happened, Sherlock?"

Sherlock was staring at the pages that he had gotten not even an hour ago from a messenger the second he had gotten off the train. He had found a small eatery that didn't have many customers and ordered coffee. He found a spot in a booth in the back. Quiet was good.

He looked up at the small laptop he had brought along and frowned at the grainy image that kept flickering every few seconds. "A case. That's all." He muttered quietly.

"I thought you didn't want to involve her in that part of your life. It's dangerous, I was the first one you ever got to actually keep going. Why did you bring her?"

"I didn't. It was a bit of a unfortunate circumstance that I didn't see coming. Is this everything, John?" His blue-green eyes looked back down at the papers. There was a glimmer of something in his eyes during the few moments he had eye contact with John. John didn't answer him for two minutes before he found himself glaring at the detective once again.

"You feel guilty."

"Is this everything?" He repeated, avoiding the statement. When John just stayed quiet again Sherlock swallowed down the rest of his coffee which he couldn't exactly enjoy as much as he wished that he could. "You know I do. I would have been here a week ago if it wasn't for some insistent from a third party and another obstacle I had tried to not bother with."

"Which was what?"

"I had to finish the case." Sherlock ignored the scoff that he heard from his friend as he sighed. "Then there was the other problem."

"The reason you and Molly were fighting. She wouldn't tell me what it was when I talked to her this morning. She just said it wasn't anything for me to worry about."

"Right, listen to her then won't you. I'll fix it soon enough."

"Sherlock, both of you are grown now. Don't pretend that you aren't effected by this whatever this is. I know you are. It's never made any sense - your relationship. I figured you were just trying to see her as a challenge - a puzzle but that's not it anymore. Is it?"

Sherlock watched John's expression during his little break down of theories over the "ship" he figured he and Molly had. It went from determined, to baffled back to a wariness that had become a bit of a new thing lately. "Good deduction, John." Sherlock mumbled before he shut the computer down and took a few deep breathes.

Another instance flashed in his head as he was willing himself to leave this small corner and get to his destination - back to Molly.

_He had no qualms about their rendezvous the night before. If anything it had been much more entertaining than he had ever expected it to be. There wasn't any awkward hesitation besides the little moment before he had taken the two of them to the bedroom. The energy was quite the opposite of a duo that were about to be involved in coitus for the first time together if not at all. He liked to think that it had been his comment before the act but had erased it from memory now as a few things crossed his mind._

_The one that stood out the most was just as he felt Molly begin to slip out of the comforts of the sheets and his side. He was quick to grab her by the wrist and pull her back to him. There were a few moments of silence as he was brought back to alertness as he stared into her eyes. Her muddy irises moved quickly as if she was thinking more rapidly than necessary. Then there was the fact that she was chewing on her lip again. It was a nervousness that he had never realized was there as he let his thumb caress the arm he was holding, lightly._

_There was doubt there. That had been something new he had never seen in her before. The words that left her mouth in a flurry made him awake up a bit more, "Do you regret it?"_

_He knew what she was talking about obviously. He chose not to answer it verbally instead chosing to press her firmly against his body and give his answer with his mouth._ _**No** _ _._

Molly Hooper knows not what day it is or when this will end but she wants it to. It's her head, it's been her hindrance for the past month or so. She can't begin to be able to tell what specific date but she knew that if Sherlock Holmes was here he would have told her. She hates to admit that.

She hates so many things about that man but she knows that none of it is entirely true. She could never ever truly hate him but she can and has harbored many feelings of hatred to the things that he has done to get them to this point. They have both told lies in order to get back to here. To a place where everything is supposed to be lovely and grand. None of this is so currently.

She can't open her eyes. Not because she doesn't want to face reality or the fact that yes, two days from now (she had been told earlier) she would be in a very scary place alone with a group of people she didn't know but would need to trust in order for all of this to go away. This pain.

It was getting worse. She didn't want to move from this spot. It was a couch in a humongous room filled with books that she couldn't bring herself to open up let alone read. There had been a throw blanket around her once but as for her rough bouts of unconsciousness she had it somewhere near her ankles. There was a fire cranking away near her body in the fireplace but she had long since looked away from it.

Her face was tucked into a pillow that was soft, her hair spilled all over it in messy disarray. She had been tugging at it as she tried to find a way for the pressure to stop building but it hadn't ever stopped. So, here she laid hoping that the next two days would pass quick enough.

She remembers fleetingly something she had said to Karen - the sweet lady who had been catering to the pathologist ever since she arrived from the train station. She had served as her nurse and bed side friend for the past week and a half. She had told her, "I wish I was normal. What woman would let herself feel this way emotionally and not find a way to go away forever. What woman would keep it up when she finds herself incapable of moving from a room for the fear of light or seeing the one person that without trying brought you to this hell? I feel stupid for caring but he makes you do that. I never thought of him as anything when we were in school together."

It was as she thought of this that she also heard the door open slowly. There was a reddish huge to the darkness she had enveloped herself in. She had known before the door was shut quietly and his footsteps echoed in the silent room that it was him. Everyone always knocked softly or spoke through the door to let her know they were coming in. To prepare her. She had never been able to prepare for the incoming assault that came with Sherlock Holmes.

"Turn around and leave me alone." She told him as he reached the back of the couch. They would be able to see each other if she just opened her eyes. Her lips were set in a frown though. That was any indication as any that she didn't want him here.

She felt his hand for a second brush against her head. It was there just for a moment before he retracted it. She heard him sigh and for a moment she thought this was going to be a good day. She would be left alone and everything would be okay. For today. She was wrong, as always.

He had finally chosen something for once, she couldn't help but think.

_Stop thinking_. That may have been one of the hardest things for Sherlock to do when in the company of Molly. However, he was finding it quite easy as he leaned over to where she was sprawled on the couch and picked her up carefully.

"What are you doing? Sherlock, put me down." She grumbled, forcing her eyes open as she had to wrap her arms around his neck as the fear that she would fall from his arms slipped through her mind through the pain she was already in.

"No." He stated as he shifted her a bit in his hold so that she was a bit more secure as he stood.

"I specifically told you that I didn't want you here. What gave the idea that I wanted to be touched by you then?"

His icy orbs glanced down to her face, completely ignoring the conflict he was feeling and the frown that had etched on her lips. Her eyes reminded him of fire. The muddy irises looked like a harbored flame ready to combust any time now.

He started for the stairs which were twenty feet out of this room. "Your body gave you away, Molly." He states slowly, it's a fact she knows. She turns her face away from him as he begins to take them up the stairs. It's been awhile since she has encountered this version of him. She doesn't know what it means will happen now. The flame is barely an ember that he can't see, the fear of what's to happen next stills the small woman as she let's him take her to safer ground.

She shut her eyes again, he noticed. He only bothers to say anything until he plays her softly on the large bed that was supposed to constitute as her own. However, it was rather obvious she had never made it there. He decides to not talk about her pain for the moment and insteads asks about something entirely different, but it's still important. "Did you read the letter?"

"Sherlock." Is the only thing that she says as she places one hand over her eyes and curls against the side of the bed. He sits on the other side, feeling at ease if he was closer to her instead of taking the chair a that sits near the window.

No, she hasn't. He already knows because it's in his pocket. The woman who had been taking care of Molly had given it to him before showing him where she was. She told him, "It fell out of her sack. I don't think she noticed."

He had only nodded before thanking her quietly. "Would you like to know what it says?"

"Will it change anything at all?" She whispers.

Sherlock is sitting rod straight up with his back to her. He finds it a bit easy for him to do this if she can't see his face. His hands are already shaking as he holds the sheet of paper where he has written everything. It was a confession of sorts. Specifically for her eyes only. He tries not to think about the irony of that but grants her question with an answer. "It's possible. Will you listen regardless, Molly?"

He chances a glance at the auburn woman and watches her for a moment. She turns his way instead of giving any other inclination of the way she feels. A small 'okay' leaves her lips.

He turns back around briefly, he takes his shoes and socks off and then folds his legs up Indian style, he's always wondered if that's just a saying or if they do fold their legs like that and sit. He ignores the thought and reaches out for her hand as he begins speaking, his eyes never look at the papers. He's memorized.

" _Molly,_

_I am not sure if you'll ever read this because of all the reasons I've given you not to. We're at a crossroad and though you won't believe anything you may read here I am sorry for putting you in harms way. I am also sorry for leaving you because of what happened. The way it would make you feel had never crossed my mind. I was only focused on being sure that it was true. It was true._

_Irene Alder is dead._

_However, that is not important. You thought less of me and that the bond that I shared with Miss Adler to be more than what it was. We had sexual relations before, yes but that was prior to our companionship. It had never been about a connection. It had been just physical. She liked to have me in that way. I had enjoyed it for awhile._

_I don't want her that way. To compare yourself to someone on her level is idiotic. There is something else in the water whenever you and I are together. I have slowly come to grips with it over the years that we have been in each others company and the six that we weren't. You are a part of me and I, you. There has never been a reason to question it before._

_It has been brought to my attention that you have doubts of my feelings. I don't wish for you to have any. I hold you at arms length most times because I am aware that I can cause you great harm, as it seems to have already happened. I do want to be with you despite my mistakes. There are many, I know._

_I do care immensely about you and your well-being. That is why I pushed you away. However, I have been told more than once that honesty is the key to any good relationshipto so here I am doing so. Just, give me some time and you take yours to think about it. I'll come find you soon enough._

_Mycroft will have to tell me eventually._

_\- Sherlock Holmes"_

Molly's grip in his hand is tight and Sherlock looks over at her really this time and notices the way her other hand is clutching strands of her hair in one hand, and her eyes are open again. She's staring at him but she's in pain. He moves to sit by her and pulls her into his chest. He hears her talking to him but he ignores the question she asks as he takes a hand to brush back the strands of her hair covering her head.

He doesn't hesitate as he presses a kiss there. It won't help, he knows but he wants to anyway.

•••

It is later in the night and Molly is resting comfortably against Sherlock. He had begun humming to her when he realized he had to find a way to calm her down. He had done this for someone once, long ago when he was a boy.

The little boy was dying but he enjoyed the smallest bit of music. A hum wasn't technically music but it did seem to soothe him a bit.

It is in that moment that he seems to realize the question that she had asked. "How can I trust you?"

He either hadn't thought about the fact that she was sleeping or that he couldn't leave a question unanswered. "Because I am right here, Molly." He said quietly as he slowly rubbed small circles against her wrist.

The night had gone without much unsettling in the house. Sherlock stayed awake except for the last hour before he woke up to the sound of something hitting the floor. He opened his eyes, surveyed the room to find no Molly nearby.

He jumped to his feet and ran along the hall only to come back when he realized he didn't check the other side of the room. All seeing what could be seen with the visible eye at the level. He rushed back and found Molly on the ground.

He rushed to her and pulled her into his arm. "Molly." He called her name once, getting no response asked again. Nothing, he leaned down to her chest and could hear her heartbeat. He thought of that as a good sign but still gathering her up in his arms and headed for the door.

He yelled for Karen. The woman appeared quickly looking distressed already. "I need you to call for that ambulance now."

_In midair and floating off to space,_

_I'm moving in,_

_Your hair is falling all around my face,_

_Like a parachute,_

_I'm breathing in,_

_You're breathing out the same,_

_We give and take,_

_And let the water fall on the flame,_

_It's not burning out_


	25. Step by Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important for clarification purposes: the first bit before we get to Sherlock at the window is a glimpse at the future. Everything else picks back up on the previous chapter :) hope you enjoy it.

He hated when she cried. It was even more uncomfortable for him when he knew what the reason for it was. He had let her go on her own down to the cemetery, and now that he stood beside her shielding her from the harsh winds and the blazing sun he was struck again by this feeling. The urge to reach out and coddle her in a way that wasn't supposed to be normal for him.

Four months, maybe even a year ago he probably was harboring a large resentment for the way she made him want to do things right. Like any normal bloke. He wasn't normal, he was just Sherlock. He had heard her use that phrase to defend him a few times recently. He had come to realize that it wasn't a derogatory phrase, it was meant to shield him from all of the things that might have slipped out instead.

She shielded him and now he was doing the same. This time in a closer proximity and there were no peering eyes to speculate much of anything.

He took a step closer to her and reached out for her shoulder. Where he usually would just leave it at that he felt he needed to take it a step further and as she turned towards him slightly he pulled Molly into his warm embrace.

Her reaction might have been delayed for a second or two. " _We're in public_."

He tried not laugh at her as he peered down at her with his arms wrapped around her still, " _Yes_."

Sherlock was standing by a window when his older brother found him for the third time in the past week. He had always liked windows for some reason. Mycroft liked to think that Sherlock liked to look out them to observe those around him. Odds are no one would pay much mind to him. Especially not in a place like this. A hospital of all places.

People were concerned about what was going on with their loved ones, no one would pay mind to a man who stayed rooted to a window in the middle of weeping family members who were afraid of losing someone close. He thought it was a bit ironic that anyone wouldn't realize the taller gentleman at the window was in the same exact predicament. Only he wasn't nearly as vocal as the lot of them.

Mycroft waited as he watched a young nurse begin walking towards the window and stood beside his brother. He knew was listening for the few minutes that the woman stood there updating him on the status of his loved one. Mycroft wasn't stupid enough to interrupt or to retract the idea that Miss Hooper wasn't someone who mattered to Sherlock Holmes.

He had seen enough to know that now.

The first sign of this was the day he made observations about the young woman upon her first appearance at his family's home back with Sherlock was still in school at the academy. The way he reacted was new. He hadn't ever reacted that way with anyone before. Then again, Mycroft hadn't went out of his way before to get a reaction out of him when he was accompanied by others.

Molly was the first and though he knew exactly why she was there he had been curious. All of them had been. She was something they had never anticipated before. She was Sherlock's equal, not that it had been exactly clear until after she decided to leave. It only become clearer to him after Sherlock had finished at the academy had left. He had called him up and asked if he'd put some people in play at the academy.

He didn't have to ask much more than that. It had been quite clear as to why he had inquired about this. He wanted to make sure nothing happened to Miss Hooper and it didn't end after she left the academy and went on to London. Then, he simply made his own way back into her life. It took six years but it wasn't as if she had become a memory. He was still there, hidden from her peering eyes until he felt he could come back and be there.

Now, he stood in the best hospital Zurich could offer waiting to be sure that she wasn't going to leave him. He didn't know what would happen to his dear brother if it did.

As the woman trailed off and away from him, Mycroft walked up beside his brother and looked at the reflection of the man who he was concerned about. His blue orbs shifted as he saw Mycroft there and he let out a breath. He needs to shave, he had the beginning of a five o'clock shadow starting. It wouldn't be so bad if he got a new pair of clothes either. He folded his hands behind him as to not take his phone out of his trousers' pocket and text Anthea and request she do him a favor.

She was back at the office making sure things went smoothly while he was here with Sherlock. Though, he would never admit it, Sherlock did someone besides his army doctor friend who was in Afghanistan and the pathologist who was being monitored in a room a few floors above them. He was his brother and he did care what happened to him. When all the others were unreachable, he would be there – always.

"Are you here to gloat? Tell me that I should have been more careful, that I should have been paying attention. Maybe I should have left her alone all those years ago when I could have ended it. Made her hate me instead." Each word that spilled out sounded like an accusation. Mycroft stood there and let him simmer in his anger. He needed to get it out.

Sherlock had half a mind to at least keep his mutterings down to a volume that could be seen as courteous to any onlookers. He hadn't stopped speaking either. "What do you want, really Mycroft?"

"It may seem very unlikely seeing as I haven't exactly spoken to you properly about your acquaintanceship with Miss Hooper but I do wish for her safe recovery after her surgery. Added onto that you are my brother, this does concern me. You've chosen to embark into a place that neither of us have dared go ever – sentiment."

Sherlock opened his mouth to deny such anything only to see the way his older brother was looking at him. "She's a friend. A really good friend, Mycroft. Of course I may have my moments where I slip into that area unconsciously." He finished tiredly as rubbed at his eyes. They were redden from the lack of sleep, he imagined among other things.

"Coffee, brother?" He muttered as a woman in scrubs and a hand knitted cardigan came over to them with a small tray of cups. Sherlock looked down at it and accepted the small boost of energy from the woman before looking back at his brother. He fought back the need to sniff the contents of the cardboard cup and took a slow sip.

Mycroft watched him with his own cradled in his hands.

Two others had entered the room as couple exited to go see a doctor about the status of their injured son. Mycroft watched all of this out of the side of his eyes. His phone beeped in his pocket but he paid it no mind as he watched his brother consume the nearly piping hot drink as if it was water. To him, it might as well been.

A few minutes of silence later, an empty cup and Sherlock had nearly staggered into an empty sofa chair aided completely by the two men who had entered the room previously. Their id badges gave notice to Mycroft that they were indeed members of the staff.

"Rest, Sherlock." He muttered as he came and took a seat near him on an open space on the sofa. "You'll be able to think clearly in a day or two."

He wasted no time in taking out his cellular and checking the text had arrived just a few moment ago.

_**All done, sir. – Anthea** _

A rare smile flitted on his face as he looked over to see the slumped form of his brother – his chest moving rhythmically in time as he breathed in his albeit drugged induced slumber. It wasn't anything harmful, just a quick dissolving sleeping pill (organically produced melatonin and little diphenhydramine). He would be out for a solid five to ten hours, if he was lucky.

It had been a whim of a decision as Mycroft couldn't have been entirely sure if Sherlock had ever tried to use a sleeping pill before to get rest. He had usually crashed after cases or the odd weeks when his body screamed in protest of his longevity of stay constantly aware of everything. He needed to be knocked out for a little while.

x

Sherlock eyes open and it takes him a millisecond to react and the images of the last moments before he was "sleeping", he is seething but it comes to a quick halt as his eyes roam around the new space he is inhabiting. He's still sitting in the chair he had been shoved into before but he isn't nowhere near the small waiting room.

To prove this to himself even though he knows it is a fact, he makes his way of the window on the far side of the room – completely out of the way of the bed where the woman he's been concerned about is laying. He blocks that part of it out as she moves the curtain that is halfway pushed back as to allow a little light into the otherwise dimly lit room. He knows this room well. He's been here before. They've been here before. Though the roles were opposite, then.

Zurich is a special place. It holds a great part of their previously unclear relationship. Before the break. It would be the place that they mend it, he scoffed at the irony at that.

He pushed the curtain back as he slipped through it and peered out the window which had previously been cleaned if the scent of Windex cleaner was anything to go by. He ignored that after a few seconds and focused on how high they were up, the same as the last time. The fifteenth floor. It was one of the few floors that was used for recovery with post-opt patients.

Sherlock was reluctant to turn back around and face the woman who until yesterday been unconscious and unresponsive for the past four days. They had been here for a week with nothing to really consider hopeful in form of news. It was one of the reasons he had opted out of coming up here. Mycroft had obviously thought he just didn't want to see Molly Hooper.

He was partially correct in his assumption. He didn't want to see her that way. It frightened him just as much as it had when he found her on the floor of the bedroom back in the cobblestoned area of Heidelberg, Germany.

He looked at the door which he presumed was locked for a second before his gaze went back to the center of the room where Molly lay. He almost went back to sitting the chair but instead decided he might as well do his brother's bidding just this once and walked over to the end of Molly's bed. His eyes stared down at the large quilt that was covering her legs and then down to the clipboard that was in the little container that was attacked to the railing at the end.

He picked it up and read over what it said. A few things popped out and stayed in his head even after he placed the clipboard back into the slot it had been in. Phrases like  _comatose, swelling, excessive fluid, blood and neurology_.

A brief sigh escaped his mouth as he slowly gazed up towards the rounds of gauze that was wrapped around her head. It would need changing soon, he noted as his irises focused on the dark red patches that had come through the whiteness of the gauze. That phrase came back to him  _ **excessive blood**_. He could see it almost a clear as if he was the one who had performed the first surgery.

He had been updated periodically during the first one and then again when they did it again the second time. He wondered if there would have to be one more time where they finally would be able to target the area that had been ruptured or bruised during the incident. A part of him hoped that wouldn't be the case. There was a more rational part of him that knew that it could come to that. Especially if the red he was seeing was gave any indication of what was to follow.

He knew they were waiting to see if she would become more responsive or ultimately wake up for more than a few seconds of time. She had done that a few times already but she would almost immediately return to her unconscious state. That wasn't beneficial in the slightest.

It made him frown.

The doctors had told him before on one of the first days when he had been considering visiting her that sometimes it helped the more intensive patients if someone they were close to talked to them. He had backed out of it, then and there. He didn't know what he would say. The same things reign true here as he stood there in front of her.

What could he say to her that would matter? Anything that could resonate enough to make her want to come back for even a single minute. He needed her to activate herself again and tell him how idiotic he was being over something that should have been normal to anyone else. He wasn't good at these things.

She and John were good at guiding him into the right paths when it came to normalcy. Only one of them was here right now and couldn't even do that for him. He was on his own; alone.

He shut his eyes and started to count back from one thousand. Most would probably start at one hundred, he needed something that would challenge him to stay focused long enough to complete the task at hand. As he begun he heard the door open and he opened one eye and spied over and saw a man who he swore he wouldn't be getting to see until the next Christmas.

John Hamish Watson.

John was still dressed in his uniform sans the cap that usually covered his dirty blonde hair. That was tucked under his left arm as he marched right on over to the bed and took hold of Molly's hand. "Christ, Sherlock. When I was practically dragged away from the medical tent and rushed onto a waiting chopper I didn't really know what I was in for. Coming back but not really because we're in fucking Switzerland in a hospital no less. Molly has blood seeping out of her head and unconscious. What the hell happened, mate? Don't tell me it's complicated or that it's between the two of you because it ain't. Mycroft bloody Holmes doesn't get a soldier extracted from duty overseas for any little things. Especially if said soldier knows the woman in peril unknowingly."

Sherlock slumped down into the chair, his mind and body for once on the same page on this matter. He folded his hands in the prayer position that John had seen before several times over the years. "She shouldn't have been with me. You were right when you said that I had never wanted her to be involved with my life – with my work. Without you there I needed another pair of eyes to collect anything that I may have missed. The more human side of it all. Molly was all that was left. Well…no, that's not exactly true. I hadn't even asked. Lestrade had called her in because Anderson was gone with the flu or something shit like that. She had been called in to be a part of the forensics team and I had lashed out at her in front all of them.

She hadn't even reacted to me at all. She had just did her job perfectly as always. Then when I came to her later on in the week with enough desperation for her assistance she forgave me in that way she does when she knows that help is needed and any plight she may have is to be disregarded at the moment.

Everything had been going well for the case and then it got to that level of physicality that only you and I know of. We were surrounded and though I knew that she had self-defense training and I had taught how to use a gun ages ago before London was even thought of, her head had been slammed into this piece of hard wood that was in the room and instead of stilling and crying about it, she had shoot the man point blank. It was as if it was a reflex. I had disposed of the one who had me practically in a choke hold and then I went over to her. I tried to check her over to make sure she was okay. I even suggested we get her to A&E but she declined, insisting it was just a bump. There was no blood, there was knot but other than that she was unharmed.

I just nodded and we went home. It was good for a while then she started complaining about these headaches and once when we were snogging, I had her up against the wall – yes, I know this makes you uncomfortable, Hamish! It's valuable information. She had flinched and when I asked if she was hurt. She just smiled and told me she was. I kept a close eye on her though even when there were cases. There were always several of those. Then Irene happened again. That's entirely different story but yes, it does have something to do with our fallout. I came home one day and she was just sitting there in the sitting room with a bag at her feet and she shoved a letter at me and told me she had to go. That it wasn't good enough for her anymore. That she didn't know where she'd be going. That that'd had been taken care of by an interested party and then she was just gone.

She was gone." Sherlock stopped talking for a moment. It wasn't necessarily a pause. He had just stopped as if there was something keeping him from going on with the rest of it. John brushed his hand against Molly's cheek and patted her hand as if reassuring her that it would be fine soon enough and then he walked over to his best friend and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Let's get out of here for a little while. It might do some good to get a little fresh air. We can get some grub and then finish up this little discussion, yeah?"

Sherlock looked up at John who seemed to be a bit more sure of all of this than he had. He was the Doctor out of the two of them, he had to know more hadn't he? "Yeah." He muttered as he let the man pull him up out of the trenches of his own murkiness and dwelling of the much depressing thoughts of what had transpired before they landed themselves in this shit.

He had half a thought to hug the man for pulling him out of the bad parts again but decided that could wait.

They found a small café that wasn't but a few blocks away from the hospital and order an entire pot of coffee – it wasn't possible but the newly arrived army doctor swung his charm to make it happen, as well as couple scones and biscuits for fuel.

The two of them sat there enjoying the breeze on the out patio where a few others sat enjoying similar joys. John listened intently as Sherlock finished telling him about how he had tracked down Molly with little help from his brother and not soon enough because the woman had seemed to not be able to lift her head without wincing or turning away from any kind of light. There he told him of his own letter which he speed on right through without telling much about what it entailed and that he had Molly back for what it was worth. He hadn't planned to leave her alone until he was sure she would be back on her feet then she had hit her head again and fell off the bed as they were sleeping. Ultimately it led them to come to Zurich where he knew they would take care of Molly. These were great people and doctors who had stitched him up before.

It had been clear to John Watson there was much more to be told but he had given him much more than Sherlock was used to be telling anyone. John liked to believe that the man knew would drag him to another place that was much further in distance than the hospital and get him to spill more of it.

A ringing sound from under the table had Sherlock giving his companion an odd look. "What's that?" He asked with an arched brow.

"My phone, I was given one when I got off the chopper." John told him before he slid it out of his pocket. "Hello, yes. We're on our way back now." The look that John gave him made it clear that something was amiss now.

"What is it, John?" He asked as the man gestured for him to get up even before he hung up the phone no doubt in his mind that he was listening to whatever else they were trying to tell him before he hung up the phone.

"Molly, she woke up."

A short smile graced the taller gentleman's face before his friend shake of the head. "Not good?"

"That's brilliant actually. They stepped away to call neurology so that the neuro who had been over her case could come and check her out and now she's gone missing. I'm sure she wouldn't leave the hospital, would she?"

"No." Sherlock, shook his head vehemently as they rushed down the next block to get back to the large building.

"Do you know where she would go? You said you've been here before. Maybe there was a place she liked to go to in the hospital." Sherlock stopped once they got back inside the hospital.

"There is one place. John, tell them not to worry. I'll get her back to the fifteenth floor. Just stall them from panicking. It's going to be fine."

"Are you sure, Sherlock?" John called to him as he began to run towards the stairs.

"Yes, now go." He told him before he began running up the stairs. The adrenaline will help him process whatever he would find upon making it to the twenty second floor, room B.

**TBC.**


	26. Crescendo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. Another addition. This one nearly wraps up this arc but not just yet. Hope you like :)

_"See you later." Sherlock told John as he left him at the aircraft that would be taking him over seas. He didn't do goodbyes with anyone, let alone someone who had been with him for some years now. He would see him again, he was sure of it._

_Sherlock was walking over to the black car that was very empty but would be taking him a few towns over to meet a man with a gun. He wasn't a bad man in the slightest if anything he was probably one of the best men he had ever come of knowing in his nearly nineteen years of living._

_He had gotten several texts from him over the past couple weeks as he finished up the last couple exams that he had to do. He probably would have preferred to be where he was off to now but he had an agreement with his parents that he would endure the boring aspects of school in order to go off and have his fun._

_This was fun._

_An hour and a half later he was stepping out of the car and walking down a damp alley and ducking under the yellow caution tape and greeting his own source of fun. There was two bodies lying on the ground, each covered in blood and drenched in the downpour that had trickled out in the past few hours. He focused on them for a brief couple of moments before he spoke to the man in charge here._

_"Lestrade." He nodded to the graying man as he stood up and reached out his head for Sherlock to shake. "Thanks for coming, Sherlock." Lestrade smiled before gesturing for him to do what he did._

_Oh, yes this would be excellent fun. Two murders. It was nice to have one to slave over but two for the price of one. That was beautiful!_

…

**Two and a half hours earlier…**

Darkness was the first thing that greeted her. It was a silent abyss of nothingness. A small pulse began beating in small increments until light began to flood into her sight. She was standing in a field, watching as two kids ran around playing tag. Molly was sitting on the ground over a little blanket and a little snack pack of vanilla pudding in her lap.

"You can go play if you want, sweetie. You don't have to stay here with me. I can see you and if I can't I'll find you. Go on." Molly looked next to her where the smiling face of her mother sat crossed legged and happy. She didn't look tired today, she looked pretty. Though her mom had always been pretty.

Molly shook her head. It was a bit smaller as were all ten of her fingers and toes. Her little body turned slightly as she looked over at her mom and scooted over to her, leaning her head at her mother's side. Her mom's smile lit up her face as she placed her arm around little Molly's body. "I want to sit with mama." She told her in her quiet voice.

"Okay. You know you'll have to interact with people someday, right?"

"Not now." Molly replied, smartly. She tugged on the soft fabric on her mom's jumper. The older woman just laughed at how adorable her daughter was as she bent down to press a kiss against her forehead. She began telling her a little story that suddenly came to the surface of her mind. About a dark haired man with the saddest eyes but with the mind of the most brilliant.

Molly didn't think twice about the last part of this image for soon she blinked as she was shifting in waves of water and was sitting on the shore of a beach. It was freezing, she was much taller and dripping down from her hair to her toes. No shoes on her feet, just a white sundress and hair in a bun.

She reached her nimble fingers up to take it out of the constraints the hair tie that she wrapped and twisted around it to hold it in place. Her face was probably smeared with the mascara that she had applied to it hours ago but it hadn't mattered much anymore. She was alone, tired, and feeling utterly dreadful about life.

It had to do with a boy of course. The first boy she had ever had a chance with. It was just a pity date. She hadn't needn't to know about that fact but she had found as quickly as it took for her to go to the bathroom and come back only to find the handsome, two years older than her male with his tongue down the throat of a woman three years her senior.

Molly hadn't even turned around when he spotted her. He looked sorry for a moment before the woman had caught his attention again. It was just like a man or a boy in this case to just cast a girl aside when someone who knew a thing about dominance threw caution to anyone else's feelings and went for the goal.

That had been the night her mom came looking for her when she hadn't come home hours after she was supposed to be. It was the summer before she was supposed to enter the academy on scholarship much to her parent's delight. Days after stuffing her face with ice cream as her mother told her that he wasn't good enough for her and that she'd find someone who she could keep up with one day. Someone who would think she counted in more ways than a nice pair of knockers (whatever that meant), she found out about her mother's illness. She did more crying then, her heart breaking more but not about a boy. She couldn't see life without her mom. Especially when it came to dealing with more women who thought she was just in the way.

There was a beeping in her ear. Something annoying, something there. She swatted at it, much like the flies she encountered on days in the country with her dad when he went to the farms to look at the meat supplies. Or more specifically the cattle that would later be slaughtered. This triggered the reminder that all things had to die and decompose in order for others to live and continue on and strive to whatever the universe sees. This might have been her catalyst for her life choices. Knowing that you were interacting with beings that could be gone the next day changed her in ways that made it hard for her to continue to go on trips like this.

Instead, she focused on the idea of going back into school focus on her central courses that will lead her into the field that she wanted. That had been her catalyst into really deciding that this is what she wanted. It was fascinating.

A heartbeat. That's what the beating was. She was still here, she realized as she breathed in. Her eyes remained closed for a while. Her body adjusting to the idea that she was somewhere safe. She presumed it had to be as she felt the soft fabric of the sheet that was cocooning her away from the coldness of the place. A hospital by the smell of it.

She lay there for a while not thinking about anything particularly. Her eyes opened. Her eyes trailing down to her hand which had the IV in it and around to the things that she could see. It didn't hurt to move. She moved, and moved until she was out of the room, unattached from those machines. There was a loud noise but she ignored it searching for something familiar.

Something comforting in essence if possible.

She found the piano. The piano that she remembered from the last time she was here with him. Sherlock Holmes. He had been hurt, last time. She stayed by his side like any good friend would. Now she was here sitting back at the piano with her fingers arched over the long ivory keys. A familiar tune beginning to flow out into the quiet of the room. She was safe here.

x

Sherlock had taken a small moment to still his beating heart as he got to the floor that he needed to be on. It had been good exercise seeing as he found it much easier than waiting for an elevator as John had been doing. Time was of the essence. It seemed to always be that wait as of late.

He walked along the hallway, peering briefly through windows of doors just in case someone had moved it. That would be a bit unsettling for both parties involved. He hid his smile when he came to the room.

It was the same as it had been a few years ago when they were in this same place. Albeit under very less strenuous circumstances. Sherlock was careful as he stepped into the room. He shut his eyes and listened to the wonderful melody that was coming from the grand piano in the center of the room. It had been moved slightly but it still looked the same.

He was quiet as to not disturb her from her happy place. She didn't ever play much anymore but when she did she seemed to glow a bit more as her hands flitted over the ivory keys. He took a seat next to her and tried not to speak too quickly at what he discovered there.

This was Molly yes but it was not the exact image he hoped he would find upon discovering her again. She was awake and while that was good, he didn't want to alarm her to the disturbing part of all of this. All he saw was red. It was stained everywhere.

He gulped as she took his hand and asked him in her quiet voice to play along with her. He soon realized it was the piece she played the last time. It wasn't by anyone else. She had composed it when she was much younger and still had both parents. Now, she had neither but still seemed to love the melody. He found it hauntingly beautiful. Not just the composition but the one who was playing it alongside himself.

He settled into an ambiance that could only be chalked up to be around Molly Hooper. Her soft glances and even gentle touch was something he had missed. He had missed this most of all. He missed sitting beside her – not necessarily near an instrument but all the same he missed having her close to him. He could reach out and touch her beyond the hand that was nestle under his. In fact he wished to do so but there was something that stopped him. There were so many things wrong with this picture.

When the song ended that was when Sherlock decided that it was time that he spoke. It seemed Molly had the same idea. She looked up to him and gave him a smile. It was quite small but he counted it as one of the ones that she gave him that was kind. She had given him a few sad ones, one of the last ones he shared with her was one as such.

They interrupted each other before Molly apologized. "You go ahead." Which to Sherlock only shook his head and gesture that she go ahead. That was the difference now. Whereas before Sherlock would just do without much thought, he was treading carefully because it had become quite clear that what he did was not what he should do. Nor was it the time for that. Everything had to be addressed with a touch of care.

"We're back here, again. Funny isn't it? I remember it being reversed last time." Molly commented as she turned around only to settle her gaze back on Sherlock.

A bit of tenderness settled in Sherlock's gaze as he looked at her. She was about the same before. It was almost as if nothing had change but he knew that it had. She appeared to not know. "Molly…" He started knowing that this couldn't last long. Not now, there were more pressing matters. The dried blood on the keys of the piano told him that and so did the red seeping from the bandage that wound around her head. It was not right.

Sherlock noticed how quickly her demeanor changed at the sound of his voice. It made him cautious as he proceeded to continue. "Look at your hands." He told her as he watched her face fall from happiness it had to a state of confusion and bafflement down to fear and worry. It amazed him how much she could hold in a single gaze. So much emotion. It was one of the things that troubled him about her. She could show how much she cared in one gaze but also was capable of hiding what she can see in someone when they thought she wasn't really looking. She observed at a very subtle level.

He could clearly remember the first time in the woods when he pointed it out to her. She pretended not to see how distressing it was for him to be around someone who could pick him apart if they truly chose to. She wasn't malicious then nor was she now. She looked more like that girl who he meet during his senior year, her sophomore. Fragile, unsure of what came next.

He wouldn't push her like he had subtly done the first time. He was her guide this time, he would make sure things went as they should. He couldn't predict everything (no one could) but he knew that it wouldn't be horrible if things didn't turn out the way he hoped they would. He was learning to adapt to these new circumstances, however he too had a plan for the future he saw for himself. Molly Hooper was certainly a part of it.

"What's wrong me, Sherlock?" Her eyes were welled up with tears, her voice wavering and minuscule as she reached up to her head only to draw back more blood on her hands.

He reacted in a way that made him want to hit himself in the head. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you, Molly Hooper. This can be fixed and it will. We just need to get you upstairs and they'll have a look. You've been unconscious from some time. Don't you remember?"

She seemed to slowly come to a realization as she sat there next to him. Her fingers wrapped around his. He breathed in a deep breath when he saw the way she seemed to shrink up. Thoughts and memories filling her head as she thought on his question.

"You found me in Germany after I left you. I was in pain but you wouldn't leave me alone. You stayed with me but then I blank after that."

"You fell off the bed and that resulted in a coma from the amount of swelling and fluid around your brain. It had gotten too much. I got Mycroft to fly us here because this is the only place that I feel will give you the help you need. To fix this. They were trying to see if you were going to wake up before doing the first procedure. They did it within a few days seeing as you weren't in any danger of waking up. Things looked as good as they could when you are dealing with a comatose patient. So, we've been waiting for you to open your eyes. You finally did today and you found your way here."

"You've been here the whole time?" She questioned.

"Yes. I told you I wouldn't leave you and I haven't. I won't until you decide whether or not I am worth it. I believe that was one of the reasons why you left me besides what we discussed in Germany. That doesn't matter anymore. We are going upstairs and they are going to take a look at you and we'll take it from there. One step at a time, right?" Sherlock smiled uneasily.

Molly was staring at him with a blank look upon her face. Her eyes flitting around his face looking for something. "You promise?"

Sherlock didn't hesitate as he lifted her hand that was settled between them and pressed a fierce kiss to it. He wasn't letting go. Not now, that wasn't possible. "Yes."

Neither of them said much of anything as Sherlock stood hand in hand with Molly and slowly begun to guide her out of the door and down the dimly lit hallway to the elevator where John was waiting with a wheelchair. Molly just about fell at the sight of her best friend smiling away as he ushered her into her seat.

"John, how long have you been here?" She asked him as they entered the elevator.

"A couple hours. Not too long. How are you feeling?"

"I'm covered in my own blood and my head feels like it weighs a ton. How about you?" She asked him, closing her eyes only to open them when Sherlock squeezed her hand as they rose up a few floors. She could see him trying not shake his head at her closing her eyes.

She realized in that moment that Sherlock Holmes was afraid of something. Maybe he had always had fears but it never occurred to her that any of them involved her. This moment as she gazed into his eyes she realized that Sherlock wasn't going to leave. Not this time. He couldn't, he was afraid that next time it really would be a goodbye.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze to reassure him that she was still there. She hadn't left him, yet. The fact that he was still around her spoke volumes to what was left of their relationship.

It was as the lights begun to flicker and the elevator came to a rocky halt did it really register that all was not well. It was further off than that.

The sounds of curses coming from John Watson's mouth and the quick rush of movement as Sherlock Holmes reached over to the emergency call button on the side where there several buttons. It was at the bottom. He pressed it hurriedly as he looked back to the area where Molly was.

"Sherlock." Both of his companions called to see if he had gotten anything. The silence was baffling. He let out a frustrated huff as he tried to feel for the box that held the emergency contact phone. They were soon enveloped in darkness.

"This actually helps." Molly said aloud, causing a chuckle from both men who she was sharing these small confined space with. Molly drew in a deep breath at that thought. She hated tight spaces, even more so now. She heard John move so that he was beside her. His hand pressing up against her throat checking her pulse. She didn't have to hear him tell her that she was going to be fine for her to know that she was dealing with a bit of a problem her.

She was recently woken up woman who was covered in her own blood and with the throbbing centered on her cranium pulsing away as if she was a ticking time bomb. Perhaps she was. She focused on the two men who soon traded places.

Molly felt the much leaner but large hands of the man she remembered to be someone rather special to her, even when he was being a down right git. She felt his breath against her temple as he arched up a bit on his legs and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. He didn't say much. Just staying nearby, not trying to move away for the moment.

He wasn't a fan of touching, unless they were doing something a bit more intimate and personal. Molly almost laughed at the thought of John Watson being around to see something like that. Luckily, as far as he knew John knew nothing about that side of her relationship with his best friend. She fondly recalls the day she mentioned the fact that Sherlock had kissed her. His reaction to that had been startling, she didn't need to throw in the fact that they had had many tumbles through the sheets with one another and several times without anything covering.

Molly could feel her cheeks blush at that thought. Sherlock's curls brushed up against her face. She imagined his face leaning down to stare at her. She knew that he couldn't exactly see her. It would be much harder for him to see her or her reddened cheeks. However, that didn't mean that he hadn't recognized the change in her body. She faintly recalled a certain moment during one of their earlier altercations. Where he told her that he thought it was endearing to see her blush because of him.

Molly never understood why he said the things he said. They held a meaning but she never questioned him much about that. She question him more on what he didn't share. "Remembering the night we were without lights, hm?" His smooth baritone chortled her into giggles at the memory of such a night.

It was an interesting experience that she wouldn't ever forget. "How do you know that?"

"What are the two of you whispering about?" John said slightly out of breath. He had started to wedge the door open with his bare hands. Molly had soon forgotten the idea of any kind of romantic notice between herself and the dark gentleman who was hovering above her. The sounds of struggle between her best friend and the metal was something to concern herself over.

"Do you need some help?" Molly asked.

"No, no. Someone needs to stay with you, you need to be monitored." He told her as he continued to grunt and pry the metal apart. He was barely making a dent. He did need someone's help. He was more worried about Molly than about the fact that he could get them out of there quicker if he had the help of one Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock leaned down framing her face with his hands again, his eyes blinking trying to decipher whether or not she could see him. "You'll be alright?"

"You're just a feet away. I'll be fine. Just help him before he pulls a muscle. I need to get out of here, soon." She told him, her hand covering his wrist for a brief moment squeezing it with a light pressure before letting go. Sherlock's head dipped down as he moved one hand to his side, a hesitant peck to the corner of her mouth. That wasn't where he was aiming but he still got the desired effect. A shaky breath from Molly. "Okay." He told her, "Don't stop talking. Tell me anything."

That she did. She told him one of the many stories that her mother told her as a child. They were all fantasy related but it kept her awake long enough to wince at the bright light as her boys had done something right. A beacon of light beaming from the very top of the elevator. They needed to get up there. "John, I'll get you up there then you get help. I'll stay down with Molly. Tell them that we've found her but are stuck, okay?"

"Yeah." John muttered as he placed his boot in the hands of his best friend and then grabbed onto the platform that he could see, it was hard to see but he managed with legs dangling down to usher the weight up into this upper body, strength that only a soldier could have and pulled himself over this barricade. He continued up, running to the nurse's station to summon the doctor who had been looking over Molly and a few security guards. They all looked at him oddly before realizing that he was a friend of a patient and she was indeed in peril.

It wasn't long before Molly found herself hooked back up to the machines she had woken up attached to. Her eyes resting closed, not sleeping just heavy from the activities of the few hours she had endured awake. Sherlock sat beside her while John stood nearby listening to the doctor who told them how an MRI would need to be performed before they could go in and do anything. They needed a clear image as to what they were dealing with.

Yes, it was clear that Molly's wound had opened up from the inside but where. John argued that it would be best to tackle it all at once and not force Molly into any more pain but ultimately hushed at the insistence of his best friend who trusted both doctor's equally but only one had the neuro license and degree that would help them help Molly get back on her feet.

A day later Sherlock Holmes & John Watson were standing outside a room as nurses and sedative specialists circled around Molly prepping her for the brain surgery that she was about to have. They gave her a light sedative to get her drowsy but would give the huge dose later when she was in the operating room with her neurologist among other trusted doctors and nurses. There would be to surgeons present just as a precaution in case the other grew tired. The procedure would take time to do. They planned to get everything remedied in the one operation.

Things could go wrong, Sherlock knew that.

That was why he asked beforehand if he could have a moment alone with his Molly. He had used that exact term when asking John to ask if he could see her before she went in. John had given him the same look he gave him when he found out that he had snogged Molly twice before anyone told him about their budding relationship. It hadn't even been labeled anything back then. It never had been.

Sherlock knew that there had to be another change. Something more than a label that signified her his girlfriend, lover or anything silly like that. He needed her and she needed him. It was all rather simple.

He walked into the room alone, hands in his trousers' pockets as he walked over to her. She blinked a little, the medicine already beginning to take effect on her. Sherlock took her hand that she had begun to raise towards his face. She missed a few times, she sighed clearly getting annoyed with herself. It wasn't that hard for her to touch him. When feeling a little loopy it was.

He smiled at her. "Before you go under for a bit, I wanted to talk to you. I have a proposition for you, Molly." He told her. The seriousness of his tone seemed to shake her to alertness just slightly. The medicine was still there, slowly taking her to the world of unconsciousness and hopefully happy dreams where there were no one out to get either of them.

She hummed, waiting for him to continue.

"I want us to move in together."

"To Baker Street?" She questioned almost as quickly as it had taken for him to utter that last sentence, if not a bit more slurred.

Sherlock chuckled, shaking his head. "No, you've only been there a few times and never to sleep. I was thinking we could find a place that accommodated us both."

"You love 221 B." She told him, shaking her head. He had to try not to laugh at the way it looked to him. It was as if she wasn't even trying.

"Yes, and I happen to…" He took in a shaky breath as he continued on as if he hadn't have hesitated at all. "I happen to love you too, Molly." Molly's eyes widened in surprise at his casual admission. Her mouth opened slightly as to begin talking but just as she started to Sherlock was leaning down. His words breaths of warm air around her mouth, "We can discuss it when all of this if figured out and no, you aren't asleep yet. I did indeed say it." He chuckled before pressing his lips firmly against hers. It didn't last long but it was better than anything that he could have slipped into a file or folder in his mind palace. The feel of Molly's lips pressed against his in chaste kiss was enough to keep him sane for days without her company.

"I'll see you soon." He told her as the doctors filed in with their scrubs and masks on, promises leaving their mouths that they would take great care of Miss Hooper. There was this look in their eyes something that he had seen before in his own mother's eyes. They knew. He cared a great deal for Molly Hooper and that he wouldn't let her go. He himself knew this to be the truth.

He met John back in the waiting room. A mug in his hand, no doubt filled to the brim with tea. "Now we wait." He told him, quietly. That they did. Each with a good thought of Molly, the Molly they knew and loved for completely different reasons would resurface and no longer be in pain. She would wear a smile and joke about how her boys had to learn to get along better and that she did love them.

That was the thing about Sherlock's most recent revelation. Molly had told him – let it slip once that she loved him. That was why it mattered that he chose to say it back this time. He hid a smile as he walked over to the window staring out of it once again, this time with hope for whatever came next would be a good thing.


	27. Coming Home

Her eyes opened slowly. Her eyes preparing her to flinch at the sight of the bright lights from the hospital room where she had been all of the four months since the problem got worse. However, now she felt strange. Not in a bad sense in the slightest, but elation that she wasn't feeling the pain anymore. Her eyes focused slowly on the room around her; it was not the hospital and it was not her home near Bart's.

She was somewhere different and it was the trigger that got her into a sitting position (stretching, and a better view of the room) before slipping off the king sized bed and beginning to roam the place. Molly's hope was to find Sherlock as quickly as possible. If she found him, she knew she was safe. If she didn't the slight panic she felt beneath the borrows of fascination and happiness that she was no longer a walking time bomb with the redness of the blood dripping from her skull would have to take a backseat and she would fully panic once again.

She kept it in the back of her mind for the most part as she navigated the long corridors of the house. It was that she realized as she went from room to room from the room she woke up in. It looked like someone had furnished it for staying and she slowly begun to see things that belonged to her in certain places. There was even a lab on the third floor next to a small library that was full of medical texts among other knowledgeable material.

She eventually made it down to the lower floor and into the kitchen where a woman sat eating an apple. She wasn't unfamiliar to Molly in the slightest. It did make her wonder where she was exactly. "Anthea." She called hoarsely to the woman who looked up at her briefly upon hearing her "name" called.

"Miss Hooper, you're finally awake."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A few days." She muttered as she took another bite out of the apple.

"Is Sherlock here?" She asked, not sure if the woman would continue to answer her but all the same she felt like she could try to ask.

"Somewhere. Perhaps he stepped outside to look at the bees."

Bees? She wanted to ask but she refrained herself as she turned away from the PA and slipped out of the kitchen and went through the double doors to a room that looked similar to Baker Street if not more grander. The skull was here and so was Sherlock's violin. That made her visible relax a bit as she slipped down into the large armchair and tried to think.

It had been a few days apparently since she had been released from the hospital and now she was here in this place that housed various objects that both Sherlock as well as she held dear. Was John still here? Or had he gone back to the war zone. She wished to see him right now. They hadn't got a chance to talk much during the flurry of surgeries and worry over her own well-being. She also wished to see his knuckleheaded best friend who obviously had been with her for some time in this house. What was this place, exactly and where was it?

She felt restless just sitting there after a moment. Spending a certain amount of days sleeping made her feel like she couldn't just sit there and wait. She didn't want to wait, it was causing her to feel anxious for some reason. Perhaps, it was all the unknowing, all the questions that were hitting her all at once. It was almost like being suffocated but you know without all the lack thereof breathing going on. So, that was nice.

She got up and started to walk around the room, touching a few things to make it feel a bit more real. The familiarity of most of it made up for the lack of a consulting detective who also happened to be her significant other – not boyfriend, he hated that word and they hadn't really talked about it ever. It just was what it was. Somehow thinking of him and all he had done for her, all the great lengths he went to come back to her and ultimately fix her again made this worth it.

She had stopped at the window looking out to see if she could see anything more. She didn't have any footwear on so she couldn't exactly go outside and look at it. She hadn't even thought to see if she could find any socks at least, she had just got up and went searching.

There were a nice selection of trees around as far as she could see and horse being groomed by a man who she didn't recognize. Her eyes trailed off to the opposite side where there was a large dog chasing after a set of cats – one black and the other an orange tabby with white paws. Molly turned to rush out the room and go help them just in case it got messy when she made a full stop. Sherlock was standing there, smiling.

"You're awake."

Molly was slow to process the sound of his voice though she had talked to him what felt like a week ago after talking to her doctor about her recovery for probably the fifth time. "Yeah." She smiled.

Sherlock moved towards her, her eyes flickered to the container in his hands but quickly focused back on him as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm relieved. It's been almost five days."

"Five days?" She echoed, her eyes losing a little bit of the glee that it had upon seeing him.

"You were in a lot of pain during one of the last days so they gave you a bit of medication for the pain. There might have been a bit of sedation as well but you were only going to sleep it off so they released you and I brought you here."

Molly nodded, trusting him that all of what he told her was facts. "Where are we?"

"Home. We're back in England."

"Home?"

"Yeah, well…"Sherlock trailed off for a moment gauging her reaction for a few moments as he tried to figure out how to explain what he had did in between his visits with her in the hospital and a little help from his brother. "It's one of the abandoned houses that my family owns. I got Mycroft to furnish it and get everything back up running in time for you to be released. I thought this would be better than going from Baker Street to your place all the time."

"You've moved out of Baker Street?" Molly giggled, the mere notion of it was baffling to her.

"Not entirely. It will serve as my work office for the most part. I'll take clients there. I'm afraid I can't completely part from it."

"Of course not, that's your home."

"Yes but now I have two." He told her as he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly.

"Are you sure about this, Sherlock?" She questioned as she peered up at him.

He just nodded.

"If he wasn't, I would probably throw something at his head for making me do so much work here when I could be elsewhere. My country does need me after all." John Watson, grinned at the couple as he took a sip out of the bottle of water that was in his hands.

"I'd probably help you, John." She laughed at Sherlock's expression as he tried to give both of them glares at their teasing. John joined her in laughing and Sherlock soon couldn't help but be less irked by their double teaming over him because everyone was here and well as far as he could tell.

It was a good start to this new place and he was happy to have both of his friends with him. No matter than only one of them would be staying her permanently.

Molly seemed to remember something after they all settled down. "What's Anthea doing here?"

"Oh. Right, Mycroft should be here soon." Sherlock stated as he begun to guide Molly out of the room, John following them as they went in the opposite direction of the stairs. Molly hadn't the slightest clue where they were going but she reached for John's arm.

They entered a dining room that looked to be setup for several guests.

"He's coming over for dinner? Who's he bringing with him?" Molly balked as Sherlock sat her at the table.

"Nope, it's just us. The Holmes' just have a habit of setting the table for extras." John quipped as he sat across from the couple and moved the covering from his plate.

Molly took in that information as she too took her plate covering away and eyed the dish before her. It mirrored John's. They each begun to eat, Sherlock a bit slower than the other two as he eyed the woman to his right. A smile on his face as he took up his fork and ate the potatoes first.

He hoped this worked out the way he wanted it to.


	28. Shoot, Aim, Fire

"I'm happy you've found someone, John. Is she on the base with you?" Molly asked her best friend as they walked slowly behind their much taller friend. John had finally thought to tell her about this woman he had started to talk to. She was surprised really, but she supposed John needed to have a companion when he wasn't around either of them. Her name was Melissa and she was a few year younger than John, much closer to Molly's age. Age was just a number, though wasn't it?

John chuckled happily, he had managed to wrangle Sherlock into not spilling any details about his new relationship with Molly. He needed things to tell her when he was around them. He would be leaving in a couple days to go back to base and ultimately back to Sarah who he knew was worried about what was happening with his friends back in the states. He had only managed to tell her that he was needed back here before he was tossed into the chopper. He hadn't even been able to kiss her, not that he had a really moment to have a go at that when the suits came in and nabbed him like that.

"Yes, she does. She's a medic, and her specialty is more general but she's given me a hand a few times. That's was actually how I was introduced to her. I needed an extra set of hands and she came running to my aid." Molly seemed to be enjoying this story and he was happy to see her so cheerful and so full of life. However, they weren't alone which meant that soon enough Sherlock would want them to hurry along, after all it had been both their decision to try to have a go at teaching Molly something that the both of them had to learn in their time away. It would most certainly help her should she find herself in trouble.

"That's lovely, John. Saving lives, you do that well. Maybe we could speed that along and you could help me help Molly save her own life..." There he was trying to be polite but his tone was anything but which caused Molly to push John along and moving to one side of Sherlock, dropping his arm and beginning to talk to him lowly. John looked on amused as Sherlock pouted and Molly jabbed him in the side repeatedly. "I just want to get this over with." He heard his friend answer but he could also tell that he wasn't winning any points with Molly for being unkind.

It seemed after the whole fiasco with the hospital was over, he returned to his ways mostly. John had been around him long enough to know that he couldn't stay Mr. I Care About You More Than Anyone, he eventually returned to the annoying prick in his side and Molly's at some point and that had started about a week ago. John though he adored his friend, was eager to get out of dodge. There was no telling what he might do to Sherlock if he tried to do something stupid one more time in order to quell the boredom.

That was exactly why he suggested this trip to the gun range that was outside the city, far away from people. If he managed to blow his brains out then no one would be the wiser. Not that he was planning to, yet. Sherlock could push people to wanting to do things though, and not always things that he needed or wanted. He was surprised that Molly was handling him so well, though this was Molly he was talking about. She could turn a lion into a cat with her stern gaze. Sherlock being the overly large cat in this scenario. It was quite endearing really how far Sherlock would tone down his bluntness if Molly was within reach.

He could count on his hand the amount of near-misses he had seen from him while he was in their presence.

He was quick to follow after them as Sherlock begun to steer Molly inside. He was a part of the instructor's on this course. Molly had to learn how to shoot. "It's for your safety, and my sanity." Sherlock mumbled as he passed her a pair of earmuffs to silence the noise of the guns, her own pair of safety goggles. They fit her just as much as her own pair that she wore when she was working or helping Sherlock in the lab he had sectored off in their house. John sat in a few times during their experiments but not a lot, he liked to give them their private time. He found watching them too long gave him a headache. It was a bit too much to take, they worked together like his parents (perfectly with knowing gazes, and silent cues that lead to giggling and synchronized movements) and that was a lot more than he needed to see. He did enjoy how well they got on.

Originally when he left he had worried how they would fare together and apart, if they ever met up and what became of their lives. He had kept in together as much as possible and for awhile it had been shifty but look at them now. They were all at a shooting range with one common goal in mind.

He stood to the side with his own goggles on watching Sherlock begin to explain the mechanism of shooting. This was partly funny because he had been the one to explain to him this very thing. John had to use a different weapon when taking out enemies on the field but it all was the same. Turn the safety off, cock the gun, make sure your target within your line of fire and go for the kill. It was simple but Sherlock was explaining it extensively to Molly. By the third time he heard the word accuracy he stopped him.

"I think it would be easier if I just showed her how to do it. It's not all that logical, you just have to do it." Sherlock gave John a look but he didn't back down. There were many things he could read from Sherlock and the idea that he wouldn't budge because he had the idea that he was the one that was going to be the teacher was not phasing the military man in the slightest. "Practice makes perfect." John said as he gripped the gun in his hand taking it out of reach of Sherlock's hand and checking the barrel to make sure it was loaded. Like clockwork he set up his mark and pulled the trigger.

It hit the target in the chest which was perfect. He grinned as Molly beamed at him. "I doubt I'll get that on the first try but very impressive, John."

"He's used to being around guns of course he could do that." Sherlock grumbled from Molly's side.

"Would you like to try before I miss excessively?" Molly said giving Sherlock the most complacent gaze John had ever seen her use with someone. She wasn't pacifying exactly but she was amused by his actions right now.

"No, I'm fine. I think I'll wait right here while you have a go." Sherlock muttered as he leaned against one side of the little blocked off area they were locked in.

"Sherlock..." John chuckled before placing the gun in Molly's hand and standing behind her. While he set her up, giving her instructions on how to go about it Sherlock watched silently. He wasn't brooding like they thought. His idea was to make Molly feel like this was something that she could benefit from but John wanted to get her to get into practicing. He had his methods, he supposed. Sherlock had his as well. He supposed he could always teach her self defense on top of this. Then again, she had a mean right hook. That might not be necessary. He might still try regardless.

He smiled a little while later when Molly after empty about three cases finally managed to hit three targets in the center where the chest was back to back. He congratulated her with a smile and then inquired about food. Molly pecked him on the mouth. "You were silent the whole time." She muttered as they walked back out into the streets. John was talking to one of the assistants at the range about something. Sherlock wanted to have a moment alone with her while he could. "I was watching you. You reminded me of how you are when you're cutting up a body. You lacked the accuracy but you're new at this, of course." He quipped. Molly knew he wasn't being mean this time. It's just the way he worded things. She learned Sherlock talk a long time ago. "You looked deadly holding a gun at the end there."

"Is that how I look when I'm wielding my trusty scalpel?" She asked him as John stepped outside searching for them for a moment before beginning to walk over.

"You looked more ready to kill someone but, I've heard stories of interns catching you off guard..."

"I don't know what you're referring to." She told him with a smile, before the trio started off again.

"I was thinking burgers tonight, is there any place good nearby?" John piped up as he tagged onto Molly's vacant arm.

"Let's just ask our map index, shall we?" Molly mumbled as she looked up at Sherlock.

Sherlock shot her a glare but was quick to tell them that there was one a few blocks down. He had met a client there once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, this is the last of the pre-written chapters. So the next time I get something up it'll be fresh and new for you guys and that is exciting. :)
> 
> Hope you like this one.


	29. Lunch Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been blocked on this collection for a little while now but thanks to the lovely Sherlollians on tumblr I've gotten quite a few one word prompts to jolt me back into it. Hopefully I can make this a constant again. I genuinely miss writing this fic. If you have a one word prompt you like me to do I'll add it to the list and see what I can come with for it. 
> 
> This chapter is inspired by two people: 1. The lovely K - I don't know if she has AO3 but we email and she anons me nearly everyday on Tumblr about all kinds of details. We're working on a crossover story together and she reminded me that I've never properly written the meeting between Angelo and Molly. 2. **katemiller** (ao3)/ **sherlollyandspoilers** (Tumblr) sent me the word 'confusion' which I wasn't going to use for a little while because I had another idea for it but then this idea came for the meeting of these two characters and I changed my mind. It's funny how that happens, right? 
> 
> Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys it. Please let me know if you're still enjoying what I'm doing and if there's anything you want to see soon. :)
> 
> <3  
> day

Molly was surprised that she was getting an hour lunch today. Her boss had merely stated that it was because of all the hard work she was doing. She didn't know if she completely believed that but she decided not to decline the extension in her break time. She needed all the rest she could get. She was working an extra long shift today and anything would help. It was only fitting that as she gathered her things to go down for lunch in the canteen that Sherlock would appear.

She hadn't seen him for a few days. He had gotten a case but he had a video call with her one night when he had some down time and wasn't wholly distracted by the work. She had appreciated that. "Sherlock, what are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? Taking my girlfriend out to lunch. You can thank me for the hour lunch later." He grinned devilishly.

Molly whacked him lightly as she wound her arm through his as they began their descent and soon exited out of the hospital. "What are you hungry for? Are you actually hungry?" She asked quickly.

"A bit. I have some place in mind. It's not too far but I like it. Italian food." He mentioned absentmindedly.

That reminded Molly that she wasn't sure what he liked. In all the years that she had known him and the few years that she hadn't he hadn't eaten anything repeatedly at all beyond tea and biscuits. That was normal for everyone though. "What do you like the most food wise?"

"Are you fishing for my favorite, Molly?" He asked as he hailed the cab. He would take care of the fair, knowing she was budgeting this week for things that needed at the house. He had told her that everything was taken care of but Molly still liked doing things on her own like shopping - they had a grocer that suddenly disappeared. Sherlock mumbled something about her not letting him take care of her and she had defiantly told him that they didn't need someone to do things that she was used to doing herself.

"Why yes I am. Are you going to share it with me or am I going to have to persuade you?" She winked as they settled into the car.

"As much as I would like the latter I suppose I can share a few." Along with the homemade meat pies that his mum had made for him Molly got to hear stories about how he had tried to help once and had gotten himself coated with flour and sticky goo that was supposed to be a part of what made the mini pies so good. Molly would have to inquire with Mycroft about it to see if he had the recipe. She wouldn't be surprised if he made a trip to the house just to show her how it was done as to make sure she didn't tarnish his mother's wonderful cooking.

"What about you, Molly?"

Molly was quiet for a moment, turning away from Sherlock for a second.

Sherlock reached out for her arm unsure if this was still a hard subject for her. Talking about her parents. They were both gone. It was time like these that he thought the world was utterly cruel. Molly Hooper who was always there for him even when he didn't want it (in the past) had been hurt by some twisted fate. It was supposed to get easier with time but it wasn't easy for her. Her parents were all that she had as far as he knew. No. In fact he did know. His brother had that file on her. In ways of family she only had her friends and John's family, and Sherlock's family.

He wondered if that would be enough for her. Could surrogate families give the same amount of love for someone who had lost so much? He wanted the answer to be yes, but he didn't know.

Molly came out of her sadness soon enough. Squeezing his hand as she turned to face him, all imaginings of tears gone and she was smiling. "There was this broth my mum used to make." She started. Unfortunately they had just arrived at their destination.

"We can talk about it over lunch." He smiled at her as he paid, and they exited the car. He swapped her hand for sliding his arm around her shoulder as they entered the quaint restaurant that seemed to be tucked inside the busy street. 'Angelo's' the sign said.

"It's lovely." Molly marveled as Sherlock pulled her close to him. She realized it wasn't a defensive movement this time. He just wanted her there. She felt happy here. Even more so when a round man came bundling forward at the sight of Sherlock. "Holmes, it's been so long. You've brought someone too! Hello, Angelo - owner of this place."

Molly stepped forward and grasped his hand. "Hello."

"Usual table, Sherlock?" He asked.

"If it's free." Sherlock didn't want to make a commotion but he also wanted to get seated so that he could talk to Molly some more. He liked doing that.

"Should be at this time." They followed Angelo down a line of tables until they came to one that set nearly directly in front of a window that had the perfect view of the street. Molly could practically see him scoping out the streets for some unexpecting criminals. Today his attention was on her. It felt nice.

As they got settle, Angelo brought a candle making Molly giggle. "Do you need a moment?"

Sherlock looked over the menu briefly before taking Molly's away. "The usual will be fine for both. Water. Need to rehydrate."

Angelo swept away with a smile.

"Did you do anything for the man? He's doting on you." Molly mused.

Sherlock made a face. "What doting? That's how he is." He paused, sighing knowing that he couldn't lie to her properly even now. Seeing was her talent. God bless him. "Got him out of trouble. Murder charge. He was doing a different crime at the time. Nothing to it really."

Angelo was coming back with their water and a basket of bread. "He saved my skin, this boy did.I might have gotten the noose."

"Don't be so dramatic, Angelo." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"He is humble, isn't he?" Angelo hummed. Molly tried not to ruin the illusion. Sherlock was anything but that but Angelo liked the imagery so Molly merely hummed in response. He left them after that as another customer needed his attention.

"Before we were interrupting you were telling about your mother's stew?" He questioned trying to make sure that that was the truth.

"Broth." She corrected. "We didn't have the means but with dad being a butcher we had our pick of meats which was nice. We grew the vegetables ourselves. You know what you're right, it's probably more of a stew. It was really good. I still remember the recipe but I'd have a decent butcher."

"No problem," Sherlock mumbled as he grabbed a piece of bread and began nibbling on it.

Molly just looked at him. Did he know how to find everyone or something? She wouldn't put it pass him. He had the nose for trouble. She just hoped it was a decent butcher.

"What? I'd just like to try this food you love. Is that the issue?"

Molly shook her head, giggling. "You have a lot of connections don't you?"

He grunted. "Some I wish I didn't. The butcher is a decent man. I wouldn't take you to meet anyone who would hurt you."

Molly knew that. "I know. You've done plenty to protect me. I really appreciate it."

"Good."

They continued their easy banter as the food came and Molly gushed about how good the pasta was. It pleased Sherlock to know that he had done right by bringing her here. Angelo seemed to adore Molly as well. He wrapped her up a few pastries to take home or to work for a late snack. Molly thanked him with a peck on the cheek making the restaurant owner blush.

Sherlock stole Molly away out of caution of the man's hand. He smiled while doing so then and gave him a short wave as they made their way out.

Sherlock checked his mobile for the time. They had about ten minutes left before Molly had to be back at Bart's.

"Shortcut?" He proposed.

"Okay."

The detective grinned, as he swooped Molly into his arms and began running. "Is this necessary?" She yelled as he held her as he ran making twists and turns at an alarming speed. You'd think she had gotten hurt. "I'm faster than you." He beamed.

Molly tried not to laugh at him. He was so ridiculous some times.

All in all she made it to work on time; hair in disarray and everything. Sherlock smoothed it over as best as he could once he had put her back on the ground. He gave her a quick peck. "You better hurry. I can see him from the second floor glaring at me." Sherlock mumbled.

Molly looked up and rolled her eyes. Her boss really was something...she didn't like him either.

"See you later." She told him reaching up to peck him on the cheek.

The rest of her shift went in a blink of an eye. She had even realized how much her legs hurt until she had gotten into the cab to go home. All in a day's work, she mused. She looked forward to going home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter changed severely from what I thought it was going to be. In a good way though. 
> 
> As a bonus I read the shots for Dancing Partners (Part 1&2) [Chapters 2&3] recently and put it up [here](https://soundcloud.com/fictionsymphony/dancing-partners). If you'd like to hear me read one of these shots have a listen. If there is something you'd like to hear me read from this collection I wouldn't mind doing another reading. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.   
> <3


	30. The Girl With The Bubble Gum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock thinks back to the first time he saw Molly. Before John ever introduced the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **[theartstudentyouhate](http://theartstudentyouhate.tumblr.com/)** sent me the one word prompt: _bubblegum_ \+ **[afteriwake](http://archiveofourown.org/user/afteriwake)** sent me: _serein_ and I came up with this. I hope you guys like it.  
>  <3 day

The first time Sherlock saw Molly she was by herself. This was not something uncommon but he almost immediately kept walking. Her hair was down, something that wasn't common to the person he knew her as now. She had her nose in a book where she sat under a tree in the quad, on the makeshift bench that had been made out of cinder-blocks and wood. He couldn't place when it had gotten there but from the few years that he attended the academy he could recall that it had always been there.

He usually avoided the quad. Too many people, too many idiots who only made much more of a spectacle of themselves as they tried to gather his attention. He couldn't care less of them. Especially the girls, the guys he could tolerate. There weren't as many of them vying for his eye. There were a small sum of them but not too many which he had to admit to appreciate it. He could deal with a few.

Regardless he stopped a moment as he passed the girl with the reddish brown hair that fell in waves. She wasn't doing anything spectacular. Taking notes was nothing. He didn't have to that. He stored the important things in his brain and forgot the rest. It was surprising that he found her significant in any light. She wasn't special. She was plain apart from the yellow cardigan that she had thrown over her shoulder to keep her arms warm as she sat.

It was in that moment that he took in the weather today. He looked up into the skies to see clouds but no dark ones. It was a decent day. Cool enough for the yellow item of clothing that she had with her. He peeked a little closer but not too much as to stay inconspicuous as he blatantly gawked at  her like the guys he didn't completely abhor did the most attractive specimens of the female persuasion. Her mouth was moving in small increments as she chewed something. It wasn't until she moved some hair out of her face that he was able to get a look at the light blue bubble that spewed out of her mouth.

Gum.

He had never seen the point of it. It didn't seem to do anything beyond force your jaws to overwork themselves.

There was something about the girl with the bubble gum that gave him chance to keep it in his mind.

He also noticed the set of glasses that perched on her nose nearly sliding down until she pushed them back up. They looked awkward on her, but somehow fitting all the same. He thought she would look better without them.

He didn't say anything to her though. After a few more moments of watching her write, flip a page in the book she was looking through he kept on going. However, it didn't go unnoticed by the others who stared after him.

The girl looked up briefly once she realized that there was a large gathering of people around her. The whispers gave them away.  She smiled shortly - it was almost barely there. before going back to what she was doing. It felt weird to her. No one had never paid any attention to her before.

They soon scattered much to her relief and soon she was by herself again. She let out a small sigh of relief at that. There was something else that she wondered about. What had made the group gather? Surely, a student studying on their own wasn't a cause of spectacle. She had an inkling that it was something else entirely. She didn't know what, but it had to be.

She soon lost the light to stay out and the quad emptied out giving her enough incentive to return to her dormitory.

PRESENT DAY

Molly was waiting for Sherlock for a change. As of late she's been the one coming home to him. Less long cases and more time for them to spend having a dinner at home or going out for a small bite to eat before returning to home for late night sex or cuddling without the added bonus of after sex coming downs. She had had a less busy day at work and then the small visit that Anthea gave her with a file to give Sherlock. She had told the pathologist that she could 'look over it' if she wanted to. 

Molly had found out early on in their acquaintance that sometimes the PA did things to get Mycroft riled up. The two were a funny set to Molly. Mycroft always looked a bit taken back by the brunette but in the most non vocal way. As Sherlock was, Mycroft shared the 'it's on your face' flaw. Molly had even made the older brother show it to her once when she guessed something that he thought was hidden quite well about a secret he had been trying to hide from his brother. He had nearly immediately thought Sherlock had told her.

"She's a clever girl, Mycroft." Anthea told him before he decided to leave the two to giggle at him while he wasn't in the room. They did quickly before returning to the serious dynamic that often found a government official and a pathologist. Business as usual.

Molly had grabbed a glass of wine as she sat on the back porch and opened the file.

It was an updated file on Moriarty.

She mulled over the implications of that as she sipped her wine. What was that man up to these days? She really didn't want to know but she did wonder what webs were he spinning now and who was he lying to. She didn't wish to meet him again but a part of her felt reading this that it meant that he would be resurfacing at some point.

That made her feel sick but she gulped down a few long sips of her red to erase it for the moment.

She closed the file just as an incoming text came through her phone.

**HAMISH**

As a joke she had given John that name. She knew that in his contacts she was under **HOOPER**. She supposed that's how their friendship worked. Best friends had to muse over something when they were spread apart by battlefields.

The text was something simple but it was enough info to tell her that something had gone wrong on his end.

_I'll be seeing you soon. Don't worry. Love you Molls. - John_

He couldn't ask that of her. Every day that she didn't hear from him she would worry. That's what friends did. That's what he did for her. What he did for Sherlock too. She let out a sigh as she felt a warm hand touch her shoulder. 

She looked up to see Sherlock surveying her closely. "Long day?"

She gave him a small smile as he pecked her on the forehead and sat down across from her.

"What's this?"

"Dossier from your brother. Is he back or something?" It was another thing to add to her list of concern. Sherlock opened the file slowly before closing it again.

"It isn't definite yet. Don't worry. He won't find this place." The edge in Sherlock's face made it easier for Molly to be hopeful. It wasn't much of a hope but it was enough for tonight. "John's coming home."

Sherlock didn't understand the sound of sorrow in her voice. "Not good?"

"I'm not sure yet. He said not to worry."

"Trust John. He knows what he's saying...mostly." It made her laugh.

The feel of rain drops pelting them made her laugh harder.

A serein. It was sunset after all.

Sherlock tucked the file into his coat before lifted her from her chair and running down the steps into the backyard. He spun her around.

"What are you doing?" She called as the rain continued. It wasn't a hard rain but it was enough that after too long they would surely be drenched.

"Isn't this what people do? Fun in the rain?"

She wanted to ask him if he was mad but as he placed her feet on the ground she saw the silly grin on his face and she couldn't be the one to erase it from his face. "For a little bit. I don't want to have to take care of a sick you. You're a horrible patient." She shot him a wink for good measure.

He chortled. "Doctor, just for that I'm keeping you out here for twenty minutes."

She didn't get to protest as he picked her up and began to take off again shifting from full on sprinting to spinning around until she was dizzy. When they were back inside she jumped him because she could get her revenge in more devilish ways.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _serein_ (noun, meteorology):  
>  fine rain falling after sunset from a sky in which no clouds are visible


	31. Mad As Rabbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock meets Molly in the lab with an old friend strapped to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to **[MizJoely](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely)** & **[afteriwake](http://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake)** for sending me prompts for this chapter with the words: _rabbits & autumn_.
> 
> It is fall or autumn as I'm gonna call it for this chapter so I thought it would be a neat idea to work with this time around. 
> 
> Hope you like it. It is mostly humor filled crack (something I've never done!!) and apparently this isn't the first fic that I'll be doing with that in (stay tuned) so here we go. 
> 
> <3 day

Molly was finishing up a few reports out in the lab since no one was around - the quiet was a nice change to the chaos she was used to being enveloped in at work and out of it. She was just about to sign off on the finished report for the car wreck that happened a few days ago when someone came through the door. Molly sighed, _there goes my solitude_.

She didn't immediately lift her head up instead signing her name on the bottom of the form she was working on before slipping it back into it's proper file before acknowledging who ever it was that needed the lab or her. They had said nothing thus far so she wasn't sure. However, when she looked up she grew more confused. There was Sherlock - no surprise really - with a rabbit in a papoose strapped to his front.

He looked the picture of calm and disinterest in anything she might have thought as he leaned on the table where she was sitting.

"Um..." She said looking between the man she loved and the animal that was sitting comfortably in his possession. It was increasingly odd. Especially when she realized that it was glowing. Where the hell did he get it? She wondered.

"Hello." He said, completely ignoring her unasked question of why he had it. Granted, she knew he didn't seem to realize that this was completely odd. People carried babies in papooses. This was nearly reminiscent of a kangaroo scenario but not. Sherlock didn't have a pouch with a little person tucked in it. That would have been a thousand times more bizarre.

"Yeah. Hi. What are you doing with that?" She decided to cut the bullshit, just for the day.

"Oh," Sherlock seemed to forget that the animal was even there.  "Just taking care of it for a client. I would say friend but she found me pretty intrusive when I discovered her secret."

If Molly wasn't already sitting she would need to in order to really collect herself with whatever rationalization he thought made this remotely normal.

"That doesn't explain why you have it." She shook her head as she picked up her pen to at least try to finish the other form before she had to end her shift.

Sherlock looked confused as if Molly was the one who didn't get it. "It's pretty simple Molly. A favor?" He questioned as if it was starting to seem weird to him. He slowly returned to his smiling face. "Aren't you the least bit curious what happened to it? It's not a white rabbit."

"It's green. Of course it isn't." Molly paused before getting off her stool and reaching over to pet the soft coat of fur. The rabbit rustled just a bit at the touch before resting as it was doing. "So what happened?"

"Sorry, I can't divulge that...government secret."

Molly laughed. "Why did you ask if I wanted to know then?" 

"Because it happened before we ever reunited again and I really wanted to tell you."

"It never stopped you before Sherlock. I know things your brother has never wanted you to share with me. Though to be fair Anthea did spill a few of those things with me just to upset him, but you've shared with me before." It really wasn't an issue but it seemed to make him annoyed that he couldn't tell her.

"Alright, fine but once we're home." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Ears everywhere, you know."

She didn't but there were cameras so she supposed someone had to be looking in on what was going on in the lab.

"Does it have a name and how long are we keeping it?"

"'Course it does. Bluebell." He paused. "The weekend probably."

-

When they got outside Molly tugged her coat a bit tighter and looked on at the rabbit who had fully awoken by then. It was colder now - the summer had gone and now they were in the autumn with the change of the leaves and the temperature that liked to drop. In London there was always days like this but the nature was starting to catch up to it and Molly found it beautiful. The winters could get harsh and dirty, but she appreciated this bit a lot more.

She knew that Sherlock was a fan of the winter. He wore the coat no matter what and the scarf she had given him. She tried to get him to go without the scarf at least once but he had been so adamant about it's importance that he would rather sweat bullets than go without it. She really wouldn't be offended if he work a short sleeve button up at the least. It wasn't what appealed to him.

Silly man.

"You think it'll be okay out here."

Sherlock looked down at Bluebell and nodded. "They survive in worse conditions and we're taking a taxi. He'll be fine." They could definitely see the bright color of the glow in the dim lit street. Molly worried what people would think of it, but didn't have to worry much longer as Sherlock with Bluebell held quite close to him hailed their taxi cab.

Upon getting home Molly took a shower before joining Sherlock in the sitting room where he had finally taken off the papoose and sat Bluebell on the coffee table. Molly expected the bunny to begin to roam around after being constricted to one human's body for however long Sherlock had had him that way. Instead he looked to stretch it's body out and slip back into the sleep.

Molly giggled softly at the antics before sitting down next to Sherlock. "Tell me all about it."

By the end of it Molly figured she got a pretty clear picture of what had happened. "Okay but did the little girl ever get to see Bluebell again?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No. He had to stay at the lab because he's apart of her work. Also it would be incredibly odd to have a glowing rabbit around other children, don't you think?"

"You've been parading it around, Sherlock."

Sherlock sniffed at her. "Your point?"

"And you call yourself a grown man." She laughed at him.

Sherlock didn't find it funny but dove for Molly knocking her down. "A grown man who does idiotic things for fun. I'm sure you know what you signed up for."

He was the one turning into an animal. A very large one that liked to pounce on her when they got a moment alone or not so much as they had a rabbit sitting right in front of them.

"Yes, I know. I'm perfectly of sound of mind."

"I would argue but..." He leaned down and caught her mouth.

The glowing rabbit merely hopped off the table after one look at the non - humans doing things he rather not be there to see. He found a nice quiet corner to continue his snoozing. The house was much quieter than he was used to but he liked it. He even liked the odd man that took him away from the lady with the sharp objects and fluids.

 

 


	32. The Mishap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft pays a visit to Molly on business that is entirely her own. However, he gets one thing wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I nearly didn't use any word prompts because my brain decided to go off and write a chapter fully off of nothing which is totally fine. However, I had a plan and it didn't hold apparently haha I still like the way this one went. I hope you like it.
> 
> <3 day
> 
> [afteriwake](http://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake)'s one word prompt: emphatic 
> 
> **emphatic**  
>  (adjective)  
>  _showing or giving emphasis; expressing something forcibly and clearly._

There were a number of odd times when Mycroft Holmes had happened about Molly out of nowhere. Today’s occurrence would be as she was leaving the shops after buying some groceries.   
Her hands were full and she had to juggle the two bags to make it over to place where she left the town car that Sherlock had borrowed for such instances as this. 

However, when she got over to the space she found a different car altogether. It was black, yes.   
The front detailing gave away who the car belonged to. Molly let out a sigh. What could he need from her today? He usually sent Anthea if there was anything. Molly’s sudden wished that the PA was in the car climbed higher.

She found herself disappointed when the door opened by a hook of the familiar umbrella. The auburn haired woman’s eyebrow inched up a smidge at it. She constantly marveled at the man’s antics. He was like his brother though she hadn’t dared tell him that. She could almost see the frown etched all over his face that was so used to the neutral mask she feared what would happen if it was thoroughly upset.

“You could have called.” She told him as she placed her bags on the floor as she slid onto the seat beside him.

No Anthea.

“Miss Hooper.” He nodded in greeting. “I did, you were indisposed at the time. Or Sherlock had your mobile. Both are possibilities. Seeking you out was easier.”

As the car began to move Molly she looked him over. He still looked the same. Impeccable dressing and the same fake smile on his face. 

“What’s this about, Mycroft?” Molly settled for being direct with him. He would in turn do the same to her as it was his way. His brother was a different story. He liked the slow going of things. 

Mycroft hummed, “It can wait until you’re home.”

It was good to know that he wasn’t taking her off somewhere when she had things that needed to be chilled in the fridge and the freezer. Not much of it in truth but enough that she would worry if they were going to be a while.

They sat in silence with Molly wondering what had happened now to constitute a visit from her boyfriend’s brother to see her. Only her it seemed because Sherlock was off on a case.

It didn’t take painfully long for them to get there but when they did she was surprised when   
Mycroft took the heavier of the bags off the floor and leave his umbrella inside the car, he went up to the house and unlocked the door (he had a key).

She found him in the kitchen when she slipped inside. She added the other bag to the counter and started to empty it but he interrupted her halfway. “Sit.”

He had brought a barstool from the bar on the other side of the room and set it up near the island. 

Molly put her purse down on it and hopped onto the stool while watching the older man carefully. He was silent but he carried purpose that she didn’t fully understand yet. 

Mycroft started to empty the bags, and place the groceries away as if it was normal for him. He knew where everything went too.

Molly looked around, wondering if he had cameras set up here. She vaguely remembered Sherlock thinking he had spied on him in Baker Street. He had been to this house a few times before, it wouldn’t be hard to put them up with none of them were around. 

“I didn’t put any up here.” He read her thoughts perfectly. “No need as of yet. It’s a very secure place.” He paused as he picked up a jar of mayonnaise. “There’s a healthier alternative than this.” His face scrunched up in distaste.

Molly shrugged. “Mom liked it, and so do I.”

She heard him breathe the word ‘sentiment’, Molly laughed. 

It made Mycroft look up and shoot her a look. It didn’t stop Molly from giggling though just made her want to do it some more. 

Once he was into the second bag - he had folded up the empty brown sack and moved it out of the way, he began talking about what he wanted to. “You’re a different breed, Miss Hooper.”  
Molly smiled at him because he couldn’t let go of calling her that even when she had told him to call her Molly several times. He had called her Margaret once when she had been in the hospital. 

It had sound odd so it opted to looking strained before returning to calling her ‘Miss Hooper’ again. 

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“An answer wasn’t required,” He sighed exasperatedly. “Regardless, things seem to be moving in a direction that my mother likes.”

The subject of Mrs. Holmes was something that came up on occasion between several different people when it came to Molly and Sherlock. Sherlock had even brought it up a few times for this reason and that. However, for Mycroft to do it confused Molly. Why did it matter so much to him? She was his mother, yes but what did it really have to do with Mycroft Holmes?

“So?” 

Mycroft implored a look upon her as if she was supposed to get what that meant. “My mother doesn’t like everyone. Well, she tries - believing the best in everyone is a habit that you two share - ill advised as it is she hopes you’re giving my brother an out.”

“An out?” She echoed.

“He seeks out danger. I’m sure you’ve noticed that. My mother seems to think you’ve lessened his need to do such a thing. In truth you’ve merely suppressed it.”

“Wait. Hold on.” Molly looked at her hands for a moment. She didn’t completely see where this conversation was going but she needed a brief reprieve to process his thoughts. 

Mycroft turned to the cupboard and began sorting it. Molly looked at him a few times as he did it. He was giving her the time to think on what he just said, and she appreciated that. 

“I haven’t do anything special to suppress his other needs as you think I have. I’ve only ever been who I’ve always been. So be clear now Mycroft.” Her tone had certainly swapped on him causing Mycroft to move over to the stool where she was sitting. He stood tall and menacing but Molly didn’t fully believe that that was his intention. This was his battle armor. Everyone had a way of dealing with something. This was his. 

“Clearly, you pose as both a saint and a bad omen. Currently you’re with child and…” Mycroft didn’t get to finish that sentence because Molly had practically jumped off the stool and nearly toppled into him. Mycroft reached out to still her from ambling into anything else. 

“What…?” Molly breathed. 

Mycroft frowned, unaware that he was breaking news to the girl. He thought she had figured it out already. 

“I thought that’s what your appointment was about last month.”

“I went in for a checkup, Mycroft.” She stepped back a few paces and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was becoming too much for her to handle. He goes from talking about how she’s affecting his brother to telling her she’s expecting Sherlock’s child.

Molly was sure she was about to make herself look quite pathetic but jumping and nearly colliding to the older brother had already started her on this course. She walked over to the fridge and pressed her head against it before turning around and slipping down to the floor. 

Mycroft for his part stood there watching her. 

He had been wrong about one thing. He was still certain she was still pregnant. The few signs he had noticed from surveillance at Barts had been enough to concrete this. 

How to deal with this now? He had to be delicate. 

It occurred to him briefly that perhaps bringing Anthea along would have been an apt choice. She knew this woman better than he did. She would have been able to take this from him and fix it in a way that only another woman could.

He would think of it the next time something like this happened.

“Pregnant?” Molly spoke after a few minutes. She had cloaked her arms around her legs and was currently just staring at the ground. “I..” She mumbled. 

“You’re not dying.” He told her as he took the few feet to stand in front of her. Then said sod it and sat across from her on the ground. His brother would owe him later for his.

“You don’t say.” Sarcasm? The best defense at times, he agreed.

“Three options.” He said.

“There is only one.” Her head lifted to stare at him. “And it starts with you not saying a word to your brother. This is my priority and you’re not to get involved until I say so, got it?”

There was something to be said about a woman who was both pissed at him and sure of what she was doing. 

Mycroft nodded. “Crystal. There is a test in the upstair bathroom. I’d advise you to take it while I’m still here. Anthea will take the next shift.”

“Next shift of what?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to be alone for the rest of the day. Now get up. I’ll fix you something to eat. You’re looking pale and if my watch is correct this usually when you have lunch.” 

He was smiling at her, this time it was looked slightly genuine. She supposed if she was carrying his nephew or niece she’d have to prepare herself for this oddities in his behavior.

“Fine. Call me when it’s done. I’ll be upstairs.”

Mycroft let out a great sigh watching the pathologist leave him in the kitchen. That certainly didn’t go as planned. He took out his mobile and called the one person he needed the most. “You were right. Yes. See you in an hour.”


	33. A Woman's Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthea has been spending days at Molly & Sherlock's place much to the detective's annoyance and confusion. He's positive there has to be a reason for it but neither women are willing to say a thing. Being coy is an art form that Mycroft's PA excels at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing on from last chapter, we get some Anthea & Molly friendship time and a very clueless Sherlock who won't be let on until Molly is ready. I thought it would be really fun to do something with these two gals that I love so much. Especially to annoy Sherlock because he has never really understood the point of Anthea but I suppose he would learn to tolerate her as long as Molly enjoyed her company. Thus, this happened. 
> 
> Hope everyone likes it.   
> <3 day

The first night that Anthea stayed with Molly she had made it her mission to get the girl downstairs and she had done so merely by joking about Mycroft's cooking skills. Anthea actually enjoyed when her boss cooked, even if he tried to be modest about it at times. Mostly to others who figured he always had a cook at home. He did but it didn't mean he didn't know his way around a kitchen. When the brunette had arrived at Hooper-Holmes home she had found Mycroft looking a bit sour at the fact that Molly had yet to come down to eat what he had prepared for her. He had even called her down, and at least thought of walking up the steps and following the corridor to the room that he knew to be his brother and the pathologist's quarters.

However, a part of Mycroft didn't want to know what he found there. As concerned as he was for the young woman he couldn't bring himself to do it. When he was primarily station at 221B on Baker Street it had been a different matter entirely. Now that he was cohabiting with someone - a woman in fact he felt a strange obligation not to barge in in case something was indecent. He was a gentleman above all else.

"Go home, you did say I could take over when I got here. I'll make sure she eats it and doesn't drown." She meant that figuratively of course but it didn't make it any less the truth. A distressed woman was a task that should strictly be put in the hands of someone who had thought like her. Women weren't so far apart that they didn't feel too much at their core. Anthea looked well put together but it didn't mean she hadn't had a break down or two. She had usually reserved it for home, but she couldn't lie and say there hadn't been a few times when Mycroft had witnessed it when she couldn't keep herself together as he hoped she would. Life happens and sometimes you can't keep the wall up.

Molly Hooper was a different case however. She was clear and full of life, and everything that went along with it. She spoke her mind, she fell apart. It was what she had always done. It wasn't too hard to see why the revelation as huge as this would merely return a similar result. She had cursed Mycroft mentally when he finally called her. She had warned him about it. He lacked the tact, and in all truth if she wasn't around it probably could have ended up worse than it had been when she slipped up the stairs in her most casual clothes.

Mycroft had given her a look alright when she slipped into the house. 'What are you wearing?' he had to be thinking. If she was going to actually do this right she had to come from a place that rid of all thoughts of this being business. She needed someone who could be there when everything else shouted for her to take this on alone. So she had come as she already was from home in jeans, an old tee from university with her cross country team's logo on it and a number on the back, trainers that rarely saw the light of day and her most comfortable and less expensive jumper that hung close to her knees. It probably could double as a dressing gown by how ratty and worn it was after all these years. She still loved having it on. It brought her own sense of ease.

Molly hadn't even readily looked at her when she came in the room. She had heard the door swing open, she was positive because she had at least sat up with her legs hanging off the bed. Anthea and carefully approached the side where she was sitting and sat against the dresser that was fairly close by. Molly could see her clearly, and Anthea could see her as well. "So." She began giving Molly the room to start the conversation rather than her taking over it fully.

She didn't need the PA today, she needed someone who would let her do or say whatever she needed. She would suggest a few things of course such as going down to eat something. Mycroft had at least been correct in noticing that Molly did need to eat something. It would help bring some of that color back into her face. She had seen two plates set out as well, which meant that she was expected to partake in the course as well. Anthea didn't mind. She hadn't eaten since earlier on and it had been such trashy food that something made well would be a delight to her palate.

"He didn't make you come here did, he?"

Anthea giggled as she pulled her long hair back and cinched it with a clip that she had on the front of her jumper until now. "No, I came of my own volition. I like you."

Molly didn't say anything for a moment. "Really?"

Instead of giving her a sarcastic answer she just nodded. "He made us food, you know."

Molly wiped her face, giving Anthea an odd look. She was aware of what Anthea was trying to do but at the same time she felt suspicious all the same. "He did mention it before I came up here. I've never eaten his cooking before."

"Well, it might be higher class than anything Sherlock has made." She did know that Sherlock had prepared meals for Molly a few times. This made Molly sniff in an amused way at least.

"He throws things together most of the time."

"Sounds like him." She commented. "Wanna see what it is, at least?" Anthea didn't move to get up, instead brought one of her legs up and crossed and arm up as if settling down to stay put. She was giving Molly the floor. Whatever she wanted to do, Anthea was game.

Molly hesitated a moment. "He's not here, by the way. Made him leave because he tends to watch people like hawks. Even I get distressed by it." Anthea whispered in a hushed way that made it seem like this was a secret too.

"Alright. I am curious what it'll taste like...whatever it is." Molly got to her feet first and stretched a hand out for Anthea to take. She did carefully and both women headed out of the room and down the steps at a slow pace.

When they got into the kitchen Anthea had an amused look her face at what they had sitting out. Mycroft had the decency to cover the plates with cling film to preserve the heat of what he prepared. It was probably one of the simplest things she had ever seen him prepare. From what she had deduced earlier she knew that Molly had just went shopping. So that only left one other conclusion, Mycroft had gotten very lazy. As a result he had prepared sandwiches. They were high standard sandwiches, but all the same sandwiches were an easy fix.

"Sandwiches?" Molly giggled.

"I'm never gonna let him live this down." Anthea commented as she slipped the cling film from off of one of the plates. Molly did the same before picking up one half of the sandwich. There were also apple slices on the plates. As she took a bite Molly was surprised by the influx of taste that she could feel on her tongue. He had combined something sweet and fresh onto slices of bread. She couldn't figure out what it was beyond besides the fact that it really taste good. She had never had a sandwich quite like it.

Anthea smiled over at the pathologist who chowing down. She was glad that she liked it. "It's a smoked trout and watercress sandwich. He likes to use fish any time he can get. It's mostly trout, with lemon zest, capers, and dill."

"How did he know I had all of that though? I don't usually keep capers around..." Molly trailed off.

Anthea lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "He knows more things than any of us, it seems. I wouldn't be surprised if he kept capers on him at all times."

That was a funny thought to Molly. "I'll have to thank him. This is pretty good. You think he'll give me the recipe?"

"I may be able to help with that. He would probably never give it to anyone but I have ways." She winked at Molly.

Anthea didn't try to get anything out of Molly for the first two nights that she came over. Molly had immediately gone back to work the next day much to Anthea's suggestion that she take at least a day to herself. Days for yourself were important. As two people from an American comedy that Anthea had binged watched a few months back said, 'TREAT YO SELF'.

Molly was almost as stubborn as her partner who Anthea nearly collided with when she arrived for night too. "Ah, A - something or another. Molly did mention that you had spent the night. Is this going to be a regular occurrence?"

"Anthea, Sherlock. You would think you learned it by now." She shook her head at him as she slipping inside without really answering his question.

She ignored his mutter of 'I only remember important facts.' The truth was that he was still annoyed that she wouldn't tell him what her real name was. Anthea was good enough for everyone, except the super sleuth it seemed. It didn't really bother as much as it amused her.

Molly was sitting in the front room with one of her medical journals open and pen clamped in between her teeth. "I thought I heard Sherlock talking to someone." She said as she lifted her head at the sound of Anthea putting her bag down on the table. She removed the pen so her voice wouldn't sound so muffled by it.

"Where's he headed anyhow?"

"I thought you would know..." She smiled.

"I don't always keep tabs on him. That's Mycroft's domain these days. I'm busy with everything else."

"He wanted to check something out at the library. A bit odd really when he has so much at his disposal already but who am I to question his methods." She paused. "Or really I don't have the energy to do so. I had a busy day at the morgue." Molly let out a sigh.

Anthea didn't think that was the only reason she was tired. When she left this morning, Molly had looked less than thrilled about things in general. Her thoughts were as much of a weight as her work load. It had to be a lot to deal with. Especially with Sherlock dipping in and out as if nothing had changed.

"Alright well how about we watch a film or something to not think about it then?" She was being as subtle as possible.

Molly gave her the same look she had the night before when she knew that there was another reason for her doing nice things for her. "We don't have much."

"'s alright. I brought my laptop. I have quite the collection." Anthea pulled the slip black laptop from her bag and logged onto it. Accessing the folder where all her digital film collection existed before taking the journal from Molly and trading it for her computer. Anthea looked over the booklet in her hands. She was reading up on something that dealt with the brain. Neurons specifically. 

Molly looked over at the brunette who looked intrigued by the medical journal for a few minutes before meeting her eyes. "Do you have popcorn or any kind of snack?" She mumbled as she got up in one swift motion, giving Molly more than enough time to look at what she had on her computer.

"Top cabinet by the fridge." She called as she sighed and actually looked at what was on the computer for once. She was going to ignore Anthea's antics for an hour more than she would have to start talking. She knew that was the point of all of this. The PA hadn't tried to ask anything of her on the subject of the life form that was growing in her belly. Yet, it was there.

There were only three people that knew about the existence of the child. None of them her boyfriend. For reasons that she tried to rationalize as the fact that Sherlock would only worry more with everything else he was trying to deal with. Moriarty, John being away again and whatever case he was deep in this week. She didn't want to add to his plate but she knew they had to talk about it. Before she could think of doing that she needed someone to talk to who wouldn't pressure into doing something that she wasn't ready to do yet. She supposed this is why Anthea volunteered her friendship as a way to do that.

She understood her, and she although reluctant to just talk about it was okay with it being Anthea. They were friendly and got on well enough. There were things she was sure Mycroft didn't know about - things she knew he didn't know but in this case he knew the one thing she hadn't been expecting. She was perfectly fine with Anthea holding her hand through this while also not doing it. It was a part of her charm. She had her own secrets she knew, but she had never went out of her way to tell her much about them. She like Molly liked to keep to herself if it didn't strictly need to be known. Molly respected that in a person.

When Anthea came back with a large bowl of popcorn and two cups of water, Molly had opened an old film that she hadn't seen in a long time. _My Fair Lady_. Anthea looked thrilled that she picked that one. "One of the bests!" She exclaimed.

The girl sat through the show with a few comments as they watched the film. It was a nice break from reality and Molly thanked her afterwards as she helped her pick up a bit.

Molly had opened her mouth to start the real conversation with Anthea interrupted her. "Before I began working for Mycroft I was a very foolish girl. I went about things in a very careless nature. It's not too different from what I still appear to be but I made a lot of mistakes. Most of which have been forgiven but I can never forget the things that I did and what I went through. It's why I think I get understand what you're going through much more than anyone. Let's leave the Holmes boys in the back of the theater for a moment. They don't matter." Anthea knew that wasn't true but it was so much easier for her to talk about it when they weren't looming as they did.

"We're quite a like, Molly. As I was saying before all of this I used to get into deep shit. Got one of the people who I loved more than anyone in the world killed, and another thrown in prison because I thought I was in the right. While this might seem complicated and messy - it was - and maybe not something directly correlated to the baby situation I did have a scare when I thought all of this was over. The one who died had been a partner of mines and he wasn't good for me. He really hadn't been and I knew that in the end. It was a bit scary, I didn't know any of the skills that I know now. I wasn't a fighter and I hadn't cared to tap into the intellect that all of you assume I have. I was just so young and I thought I could fix it. Could fix me. It doesn't work that way. Sometimes you ruin your life and sometimes you get picked up off the ground and find a new life that gives you more meaning."

She broke off for a moment as she watching the sympathy gaze that Molly was throwing at her. She hadn't given her too many specifics but it was clear that they had one common interlude. A child.

She allowed Molly to ask the question that she knew was on her mind, "What happened with the baby?"

"She's in a good place. I see her sometimes. She knows who I am and it's good but there's an understanding that I couldn't do that for her. I was a mess and sometimes I'm still that mess but I had someone who found value in me that I hadn't tried to find because I was confused and afraid."

"Mycroft found you."

Anthea had this smile on her face that was kind of funny. "No. He had been looking for me. I'm not sure I completely understand it to this day but he said he had been looking for someone like me. Someone who needed a new shelf life. He didn't want to change me but he wanted to show me my potential and well it's obvious that he did. I owe him in a lot of ways."

Molly found Anthea's life tragic but beautiful in this interesting way. She would admit that she didn't know what she was going to tell her what happened with her daughter. It turned out okay, despite Anthea's thoughts on her capability for being a mother. Molly knew that if she tried it now that Anthea would be a suitable mother. Looking at what she had been doing for Molly the past two nights it was clear that she was capable of it.

"Next to John Watson, Sherlock is my best friend. I care about what he thinks about me just as much as he cares about what I think of him. That's not to say I don't want him to know but I haven't found a time or a way to express to him what we've created together."

Anthea hummed. "There will never be a right time. In their lives - Holmeses take everything by the horns and run with it. He might buffer as he does when thrown into a new situation but he'll do right by you." She didn't have to tell Molly how easy it was to see how much Sherlock utterly cherished her. It was plain to see for those who were paying attention.

"You're right."

"Right about what?" Sherlock asked as he came in with several books in his hand. Anthea ever the helper took one stack from him. "Oh, you're still here. Seriously, are you going to be every night?" He huffed before looking over at Molly who was smiling.

"We were talking about Bond films." She paused, waiting for Anthea to nod.

When she did she followed it up with, "I prefer the older films while Molly like the Craig ones. We've come to a mutual agreement that there is at least one film we both could love mutually no matter who's Bond."

"The spy guy?" He question with a look of irritation on his face. Sherlock wasn't that much of a fan of those. Of the books he had picked up because Molly liked reading spy novels he found them quite impossible. "Humor me, which film is it?"

Both women smiled before answering in unison, " _Diamonds are Forever_."

Sherlock shook his head before walking away.

"He's gonna watch it." Molly commented once she heard his footsteps heading upstairs even though he left his books in the kitchen.

"Won't be surprised if he wakes you up in a few days and has a long dialogue about it."

"God no." She shook her head. "By the way, you should stay the night. You have the day off tomorrow?"

Anthea gave her an amused look. "How did you know that, Molly?"

She shrugged. "A guess."

Anthea didn't quite believe that but when Sherlock came back downstairs in a hurry, she told him the answer the question that he was just going to ask again until one of them told him something. "I'm staying so deal with it, Sherly."

He grabbed a stack of the books before muttering, "Don't call me that, Analise."

That was pretty close to her name so she didn't say anything.

"He's gonna figure it out."

"You don't mind not knowing though." She pointed out.

"I don't mind." She confirmed.

They girls spent the rest of the night with a certain spy movie marathon much to Sherlock's chagrin when he came down hoping to get Molly to himself for a few moments. She was too immersed so he didn't bother.

_Stupid Mi6._ He thought as he began making coffee. It was going to be a long night. 

 

 


End file.
